Part Two of Ancient Doubles Poem
Poem Doubles
(3.)
As The Burnt Sun Eases Into The Night
From these tranquil hills, let this soul lay bare,
the dew-laced meadows so proudly sing,
Youth must in its wildest-set-searching play fair
For love and life thrives without the gold ring,
As the red-burnt sun eases into night
darkness comes, grows to be its fearsome...
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