A Night
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Nights Like these,
Bear Fruit I've Savoured Before,
Dark, Stagnant, Foreboding,
Trees from a Forest bred of Woe,
Stumbling over the Bracken,
Of Misery's Wiry Fingers,
I breathe the scent of Fury,
And find her Whisper Lingers,
Alas, In This Storm,
Even The Wind's Chariot,
Cannot Pull itself from Sorrow Away,
I walk in Resignation,
Surrendering My Dissent,
To This Night's Solemn Parley...
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