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Twow The Next Borrowed Eve

Twow the next borrowed eve.
I stood there standing ill at ease.
My muster lost on hasting sky.
A land of dreams to passerby.
But, here I must away.
To a place where constant pray.
 
Twow the next borrowed eve.
I stand caught by freezing breeze.
"Have I awayed too away?"
But, surely nearly it cannot be.
I caught no site of endevor
And, this place is no easy treasure.
"Surely, surely it musn't be so."
 
Twow the next gibbous borrowed eve.
The sail and mast have lead me, truly.
And, joyous London stands abound.
"Might this be a place of refrane?"
Where the voices cannot hear my name.
Oh, what a hope of all hopes to be.
 
Twow the next borrowed eve.
The lights, and luster.
The sleeping sounds.
The washy voices of foggy town.
"Surely such a place can hide me for now."
And, any specter shall not reave.
But, I shall not dare to wear my face upon mine sleeve.
 
Twow the next borrowed eve.
I found a flat where I may rest.
Where silent faces of the night shall not press.
"But, shall there be duress?"
 
Twow the next borrowed eve.
A slipping stalker of the night.
In dreams they send there accursed light.  
"I must away."
 
Twow the next full moon midnight.
The tapping of my shoes, upon the cobbeled stone.
Are all cut short by jingling of the many bones.
Written by MrE (C. R. Powers)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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