Oh the nights which belong to the Moon!
The silent shores, the soothing strokes of dawn
A fiery breeze, and a painter's fleeting gown
Oh what was but here, has gone too soon!
Why, the mind asks, should nights be the wife?
Strive, strive, oh Sunset frames of life!
Waves are innocent of love's mighty ride -
A few drops of hope, fading horizon and the sky.
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