Speak of It Not
Speak of it not,
think of it not,
lest regrets may
cloud the failing light,
and weariness
a shroud becomes.
This little thing,
once proud in love and lust,
now hides its face
and soon it will be dust.
Gone is the lustre
and delight
of fond imaginings,
as shadows deepening
enfold what once
seemed ever bright,
impervious to
encroaching night.
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