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In the peace of contemplation
when night is comfortably astir,
the moon sneaks in my window
leaving streaks of silver
in my hair.

A multitude of memories
untouched by time’s extent
rise and swirl around me
like a candle’s drifting scent.

Shadows on the wall
sway to their own symphony,
drifting safely towards oblivion
as the pyrite moon is fading
into new morning light.

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