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She struts as on silver plate,
The courtyard shot with soft pale light,
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Beyond the pull of binary suns I’ve watched the passing comets veer and snatch
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It came October late, so long ago, I was just a boy, told “it’s but a mist.”
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I thought that death would somehow break the bond That long we shared across the pleasant leas,
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Where all the candles hung At Christmas in the room,
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The warm volcanic sand was black as coal,
The ships demise was once then bleak and swift.
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My dreams come in cascade to so confuse, No oracle may now guess what they mean.
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Fey luminescence spilled along the trail
Down through the elms and past the winding burn,
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Far from the row of shattered idols stands A pyramid of black volcanic glass,
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On moonlit nights beyond the lea
Near the tide when the storm winds call
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Do not cross the silver runneled rill,
On Candlemas below the haunted oak,
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And shuffle off to where I dwell,
High in my mystic citadel,
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Across the esplanade’s broad stone expanse, Beneath a sickle moon I watched her spin,
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The walls were black and polished porphyry,
The old teak door was worked with river pearls,
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When love was like a flood tide
I built my tower high,
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Shy princess from a fairy realm,
Ah, hide not in the reedy brake,
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And she is magic tall and lean, Shaped like a lovely statuette,
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In forests of an ancient Zanzibar I’ve plundered fanes below a wan moon dumb
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In dreams I’m lost upon a shore,
My stalwart ship has run aground,
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The desert night turned dreary and most damp Then on the dim horizon to the skies
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The magus called me from the grave. My eyes Like dust, as dead as stones and twice as blind.
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That slow excruciating drip, drip drip,
Falls from that ruined waterwheel. The door
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I stirred my pewter tankard of warmed ale
Within my stall alone, without a friend,
by Eusebius
15 lines, 11 comments,
on Oct 3 10:04 AM. In Dark
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I come to stun and lacerate
Your shores with my pale ships of bone,
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They say the vasts of Space and Time are bent, And in the end, when all the songs are sung,
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I waited at the bridge at eight, You never came though yet the Moon
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I watch the echelons march rank on rank, The wind across the leas so like a purr.
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From out of the West, A cool silver crest
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When the stars grow dim, its weak glows limn
A thing on the barrow high.
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Sweet incense on the breeze may float
Like smoke from pyres on the plain,
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Up from the desert, timbers hewn from teak,
Part of the prow is shown, the giant keel,
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The sea was roiled with foam. The air was thick. And there I saw my brother in the room,
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I steal stray dreams and commandeer
Lost spells that distant star streams stain,
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I speak and rant to no avail
There at the window sill,
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