Though the leaves lay golden
Trees with flame embolden
Song, of argent wind at wing
A tale on silent breath to sing
Of an ancient wayside dreaming-speak
A prayer, for death my soul to reap
And autumn gold, my soul to keep
At home, beneath the winter sky
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Author:
Reivax Camlost (
Offline) - Published: September 21st, 2016 20:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
Offline)
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