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Damien Joubert May 2015
There he used to sit
There he used to dream
in the dark of the night
Candles like a sunbeam

Then his words used to sing
Then his words used to long
to a place not know
by man nor by song

Long trees would grow
from his pen
Bushes, great and green
from fairy worlds unseen

There upon the shadow of the moon
he used to dance
with kings and queens
of peoples never been
But now as the dawn grows strong
these peoples disappear
like love from broken hearts
to places that no longer dream

Now, as he rises to the full of light
in this world
Dark and full of fright        
He loses all his words, all his might

Damien Joubert, November 2014

— The End —