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Apr 2014
Early was the mourning
Of the glory that would pass
Cold was the night
As I dreampt of the past

In the days of old
The knights were still bold
Now its foretold
The nights will be cold

This cold night of mine
rode in on winter wind
freezing the vine
And my heart in the end

I woke to the mourning
Finding glory had passed
The knights became cold
And frozen hearts don't last
MaryJane Doe
Written by
MaryJane Doe  Colorado
(Colorado)   
831
   AprilDawn
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