All the world is swept in sand today,
How sombre night becomes you this day,
The light is the light in earnest dark,
How dumber would be then its luck?
Who hears your mind whistling so idle,
Who sees the still and soothing fright
Ere come cloud and rain to fight,
Bedroom flowers are heirs to title.
Who weeps in manic sounds and blinds,
Sees neither cloud, nor rain, nor sun.
A mirror instead for it was all gone.
Every breath. Every thought. Unwinds.
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