Twilight's Last Ember
Watching the hourglass passing time
While sipping water kissed with lime
The distant bells softly start to chime
Their echoes weave a gentle rhyme
Deepening shadows move like a mime
Slow dancing near the scents of thyme
They push ahead starting their climb
Yielding to shining stars in their prime
The scale of beauty is nature’s dime
Missing such splendor should be a crime
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