Under the foggy vale of eve I woke,
Unsettled though I did miss so much more.
I rose to listen to the night’s allure,
And ease my angst, yet fear I did provoke.
And from the distant black I did then hear
A faint but present call; and my lone heart
Began to blindly fight the darkest part
Of myself; but it did not break yet clear.
The murk rose, as it will, to show the ruin
Of an ancient, though distant windowpane.
Where a forlorn pale beauty sat, long chained,
White wings silhouetted by silver moon.
She reached, fore’ I was lost to dreams of men,
Will lost wings spread to ever fly again?
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