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Jan 2016
It's a wonderful night to die.
The sky is stark from the lights around,
And below my feet are traffic sounds,
Wherein I hear a stricken cry.

It is a wonderful dawn to die.
The sunrise gives my gray surrounds
A color like the shedding's of hounds.
But my cowardice cannot let me fly.

It is a wonderful day to die.
All about, feelings of love abound,
Excepting me. I am alone as if in the ground.
But I do not want to die.

It is a horrible dusk to die.
The sun sets slowly, beneath the hallowed ground.
Within my mind, I behold the eternal town.
Safe in bed, I sleep alone. It matters not to me tonight.
Lark Train
Written by
Lark Train  California
(California)   
325
   RH 78 and Violet Moradoe
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