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Poem # 64

mocked

waning moon rises

over soul’s darkened landscape

crescent crack,

a narrow sliver of

receding light

fading, fading, fading fast;

love’s enlightenment

drowned by darkened sea

of reasoning remains

as cold night wind

snuffs the icy

embers of passion;

isolation: death’s

shroud woven

round heart glutted

upon love’s chalice,

poison to my lips;

fool’s soul mocked

by angels falling still

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 He said, "Why should I tarry?"

And smiled with tranquil eye;

"In destinies sad or merry,

True men can but try."

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

(Lines 562-565)