The night is but a sanctum of time..
to ward the evening off.. And hate it.. ye.. for its mourning
quiet.. and its silent ways And would you see the moon ahead.. its
silver crown of light.. And would you leave.. so sudden so
soon.. when the shadows come.. And dear.. she whispered wordlessly, and sat down upon her loom.. Dear.. how can you love her without loving too.. .......... ............. |