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Passion Spent
Passion Spent
Into oh the quiet twilights strays
Then creeps like a soundless youth from day,
Until the moon and its bright reflections
With time did ever change
And the river sounds an eternal flow
In this place where our belief is unknown,
Like an image in thy memories sight
For which we are left to wonder why
Yet this moment exceeds ones broken heart
As we all too silently wait,
While outside beneath the evenings moon
The faintest breeze blows by
We often think, what may have been
When this in our memory is kept,
Beneath all that’s dreamt of soft lament
And the thought before we wake
Farewell the bound that limits life
When this passionless night retires,
To bid us gaze into the dawn
And behold our dreams expire
By M.Norton
marklnorton@shaw.ca
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