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There’s a thick haze
Around stars I see at night
Obstructing the path of my gaze
Making it all seem less bright
The moon takes cover
Behind clouds damp
Refusing to shower
It’s light on the swamp
In the faint, yet distinct moonlight
That has betrayed it’s source
There’s a strange quality to the night
Making uncertain its further course
I wait for the heavy mist to rise
For the clouds to clear away
I no longer can strain my eyes
To find the correct way

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One Comment

  1. Those are the times you go by instinct.


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