Another night, I find me self once more
In the darkness of a missing lore,
A shred of life, unchanged it seems,
Yet in the laurel of idle dreams,
If I repose in boredom’s guise,
Masked as sloth ‘fore weary eyes,
A silent tale then doth unfold
Of my slow pace ‘midst stones of old,
And so I run whilst standing still,
Speak of naught and speak I will.
A Shred of Life
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