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It is the end of summer
and thus the light dies;
it is the end of ever,
comes eternal night.

A rebellion of being
in a moment of faith,
a question of answers
and creator replaced;
the worry of breathing
when the air is this cold,
when silence of chaos
and its order unfolds.

The death of a dream
that was ever unborn,
and I in my doing
exist but to mourn.

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But for a word
or a whisper,
a breath of forgiveness
I gave but could not receive,
you could have saved me
with nothing but time;
and though you’ll heal
know I will not,
for no secrets kept
will escape this soul:
I shall bear to the end
your scars and my sins.

Just Passing Through

We dance in shadow and light,
and we are but shades
defined between them,
endlessly turning
as time passes around us,
between and earth and sky
that will never meet;
and in the shape of light
is found a glimpse of forever,
though it too is fleeting,
naught but another reminder
of all that the dark is not.