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Twilights Gleam Why do eyes delight at the dying day the last gasp of light, reddens as it falls stirring in the heart, all regret passing away a portrait of remembrance calls The kiss of night sends the soul to repair lay me in the palm, wrap me in fingers calm soothing hand, relaxations lair let me fall where conscious merely lingers there inside a dream daylight breaks once more mirror land, where logic is lamented desires playground, shows us to our core sometimes awry within fears cemented evening of the dream welcomes rising eyes moving into another day to prize |
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