When time runs short

words. mostly…

When silver threads creak with first frost

And summer thought in mists are lost

I wonder if you’ll count the cost

Or blindly hide from reason

When nights bleed into shortened days

And stars no longer light your way

So willingly you choose to stray

and blindly protest treason

No one to watch, no one to keep

Your candle burning while you sleep

And memories sink into the deep

Lost in the cold, dark freezing

Your stories ink washed from the page

And meekly without pain or rage

The curtain falls on empty stage

At closing of your season

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Author: Michael

Husband, dad,(ex)programmer, comic collector and proud Yorkshireman. I have no idea why im here or why im writing but i rather enjoy it. no great fan of punctuation;

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