Wednesday, November 29

A poem I just wrote minutes ago.

The half moon so dull and bright,
Hangs over the heavy, gloomy skies.
A mere reflection of what is true,
A poor show of summer's delight.
Shrouded like the world's end,
It nears the dawn of something bright.
The future I cannot foretell,
Thus the uneasy task I must fulfill -
To trust in forces that test our will.

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