One step at a time they arrive,
At once part their heathen ways,
Alights the shadow as once it were,
If light were vacant and me derive,
A fairness that blooms hither in day,
As such where night falls I blur,
By stones that roll they never sleep,
As sounds their crashes I fall too deep,
Casts a way that never I desire,
Since long but ought never delay,
Binds myself to a trail that follows,
Is fate that guides too never it stays,
If not for eyes is bane to see,
Hushes the ears so silence ripe to weep,
But eschews forth in night yearn to walk,
Is blind mine heart is slow to tell,
Err my skin too dark in dark discern,
Last I enter the point final to look,
Dealt myself heavy but is yet to run,
Feels another air vacant but wind slow,
Ere sat but turns away from that in vain,
But soothing is in solace my art in vein.

Life, Mysterious, Nocturnal, Poetry, Works
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