| a soft
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| glowing sphere rises within the darkened sky
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| clouds move and shift around a glorious moon
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| hanging far above the earth below
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| beams fall from the huge night light in the sky
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| far below
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| the cemetrey gates gently creak
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| as a cold breeze tickles the oak tree’s leaves
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| they dance and sway to the blowing wind
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| an eerie fog descends upon the cemetery
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| thick enough to catch the moon beams
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| the graves are aglow with soft light
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| the full moon growing brighter with time
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| the breeze is no more
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| the air is still
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| a blankey of think fog is horizon bound
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| an abandoned grave is bathing ever so softly
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| in the fallen glowing full moon light
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| the grave abandoned in the wake of rapture
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| no longer the abode of a corpse
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| but a cavity in the earth’s crust
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| the former occupant now far beyond the clouds
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| to bid farewell to the moon
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| the stars
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| the past
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| now but a faded memory
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| soon to vanish
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| the life beyond the flesh is yet to be discovered |