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The Torchbearers
And then somewhere,
As days passed to years,
It was lost.
We had become the elder guard,
The keepers of tales old
And wisdom new.
No longer the hunters of Snipe,
Our youth, long since left behind
In those grassy fields and enchanted woods.
The future's endless possibilities
Have turned to numbered days,
Where victories are marked in sunrises,
And losses in lonely sunsets.
Slowly, we fade
Into the dimming light of tomorrow,
Remembered only by those
Who choose to bear the torch.
Copyright ©
Keith Mansfield
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