In The Quiet Of The Night

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In the quiet of the night
When the moon has gone to sleep
I think of your laughter’s light
And then pause, falter, and weep…

And when my heart aches from beating
And my mind turns over and about
I see the roses wilt to black weeping
And silently I begin to shout…

Yet the moon does not care
The night does not end
The sun does not rise, to usher in a fair—
Day for both of us in bliss to spend…

Hope dies in the garden
The moon hidden sardonically smirks
Such is the fate of pathetic men
In such crevices of the soul, pain lurks.

September 20, 2004 – Konrad Tademar

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