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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Dark >> ID #1821724 |
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I swear I saw a candle lit;
Shined so bright where the stoic sit. Yet slowly, surely, out it went- And now the wick is all but spent. Nor soul nor ghost shall dare appear, There’s too much here to cause such fear. No chance of light, for now there’s none- A hall so black the shadows run!
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