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kevin-paul-mallen
Irish
Silver leaf fallen, shimmering starlight reflecting pools of streaked lightning Where the wolves go to feed the young By running clear waters Blued by time In that place where the elms bleed Darkness. There we see in visions of mist straight paths narrow fields of Thermopolae Sadness creeps And the mist it lingers Forgotten dreams of memories you never had settling In the hallowed place Where a freeman walks The lonely path In Darkness. Creep Silence of the stills
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Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
The Wanderer