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7/7



7/7
By Dorothy92 on 08/12/2006
Viewed: 418
Reviews: 1
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Four days quickly steeped themselves in night; like to a silver bow
Four nights quickly dreamed away the time;
yonder rises the moon, half unveiled,
recoiling from the face of heaven.
A ghostly galleon beneath stars, thus,
behold this night of somber solemnities.

How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
How oft hereafter will things stay the same?
Nature tis cruel to be kind,
Cruel to grant bindings of eternity
bounded in shallows and in miseries
condemned forever in a living death.

Like the phrase of the moon, the tidings of life changes,
But unlike the phrase of the moon, it never comes back the same.


© By Dorothy92 On 8/12/2006 11:30:02 AM
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