Fleeting Frightful Fancy

Moments drift by in long, shadowed hours
Stealing away the night
While moonbeams sink their pale-blue teeth
In paths which bite the dark.

The soul while bathed in dawn’s argent light
Can sense all the beauty of the world.
Long it labored, this bright scene its favor
For a day without an end.

But drowsy madness seeps
Into minds still wakened
and o’ertakes its mark at last
When slumber’s beckoning goes unheeded
Too long, to hear its siren call.


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