The ever-straight sunrays of cloud speckled sky,
Dance upon the surface of the polished crystal,
Dynamic, ever beating, ever dancing.
The strange tides of unseen power strips her,
Kindliness and warm embrace in the fragrant breeze,
Gestures in the wind, soft and nimble.
Her breath is drawn in with sweet frailness,
The light of dusk fades with the excitement,
White glimmering hopes scatter in the dome.
Another breath and the light is back,
Yet colder, frigid knives render her helpless,
To the tides of season, and break her warm embrace,
To that of the darkness of the year she must bow.
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