fascination
happens slow
feeling
your way
you
love the quiet fields
the
happy country tones
too
soon to whisper clear
i
wandered until i died
the
light that we thought was so near
was
so far away
what
is it to grow old?
lose
the glory of the form?
the
luster in the eyes?
yes,
but not alone
fascinated
by the glow of the day's decline
creep
into my narrow bed
it's
time my child
it's
time
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