Tag Archive for: 467-1
THE RESPITE.
UncategorizedTHE RESPITE.
467.1
Now, night, dun-winged, upon a stressful world descends,
With calm decree of silence, and day's fanfare ends;
Freed souls steal down dim aisles shading sea of sleep, to
Awhile to drift, like ships becalmed upon the deep.
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