Dirge of Ardor.
Upon nightfall descends my regret
Enrapt in the embrace of darkness
Where tomorrow has no meaning
And the voices of yesterday lay silent
That sweet muse once beckoning to me
Like a candle on the windowpane
Slowly burning away the memory
Ever dimming within times cycle
So while the stars leisurely sweep
Across repentances indifferent skies
Again this night my lover sleeps
Beneath the cold sepulcher stones
Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007
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