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Aug 2014
Tonight I tried to find the sun beyond horizon bare,
But when I climbed atop a hill I found but blackness there.

The moon, accomplice to this lack, held darkness in her gaze;
What water dark and somnolent did swallow her bright haze?  

Her solemn limbs and vacant eyes were phantoms to behold:
Pray do come down and spare your crown, for I grow tired and cold!
Lauren Anne
Written by
Lauren Anne
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