Poem By Arthur Edwardson
The night falls with a silent sigh, cold and alone are we the forgotten.
We are the light for which you lust
Which flares once, then dies,
We are swept away by a velvet ebon nothingness.
And all hope must surely perish.
Surely your heart desires no more.
Yet, how could you fail to believe?
Lifes shadows surround us, crying,
because we have lost our way.