Silent Echo
Here I stare blankly at the blank ceiling.
On this November night that's now fading,
Its blackest shadows now slowly graying.
They cowardly creep and cringe far away
Deep into the gloomiest nooks, fleeing
From the softest touch of a brand new day.
But still the lilt of your muffled laughter
Lingers on and on as a silent echo
As you leave at dawn, and long, long after.
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