Sense of void or loss into a fray
The tiniest of glory signs
Reckoning betrayal.
The older you grow,
Feel sorry for the
Loveliest dreams that you hold
And letting go...

Wouldn't hurt, winnowing out the grief
And the hall resounded, conjured to sing again
Have I had enough?
Miser of illusions, accreting somehow
I’m waken,
Awaiting life anew…
  

Salient Dreams

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Constant Contrast