Sweet Repast
it is not with sorrow that I pack it away
in tissued hope of long past days
no common ground for it to last
a sated dream with a sweet repast
it is not with anger that I look back
on a path not traveled and the aftermath
the music beautiful to my ears
a whisper of magic when you were near
it is not with regret that I let it go
the dreams still come with the lunar glow
no longer a nightmare, no longer a prayer
what stays behind and was never there
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