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My Messiah, Your Messiah
Spring was slumbering for long,
The birds had discord in their song,
The moon, not where it did belong
And the world was black
The trees did not waltz with the wind
The little earth was freshly skinned
None were mellow than the sinned
By my window’s crack –
There gently blew a steady breeze
In their graves, did the withering freeze
The moon so silently did tease
Of that era, back
Back when she heard a whisper pierce,
Marring still the nightly cheers;
While collared men sniffed at their beers
What the world did lack –
The world did lack a watchful gaze,
A police to his lifelong craze
Which willed him to a thorny maze
And do the Black
Tonight, my feather and my ink
Long for just a distant wink
To make me walk far from the brink
Let me not in this abyss sink:
Where the birds sing daz’ed, out of tune
Where lyrics is but just a rune
“The end of days has come too soon,”
Says the aged, frosty moon
Gone is his fair voice from dawn,
Music is but just a fawn –
With no swan song, he was gone
I still can hear his music… John
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