I stand calmed by the light of morn
rescued from fear darker than eventide,
here bathed in the gold of heaven's adorn,
I await patiently to confide
my fate to the silent breath of windfall;
For who will spare an earthly sire
from the blackened depths of human desire,
when all are engaged to heed
the lure of a deceptive call.
Oh but the sorrow to watch a rose bleed,
to pass by the healing perianth of a lily
and go into the shadows to wither and parch
to where the heart ceases,
forever silenced to the blooms of March.
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