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Apr 2014
**** the silent moon,
and all it's stark white beauty,
and the thundering ghost train's,
crescendoing symphonies,

I am ever so angry,
At the effortless night,
for try, try,
and try as I might,
I will never be quite as still as the moon,
all of my lines well end far too soon,
and all will be lost to the effortless night
M Raowler
Written by
M Raowler
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