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As the Pearl hour comes to an end,
The crawling mist lies low;
Rising smoke from my fire,
My soul sighs once again.

For a few minutes I can live,
Where no one can ever see,
The cool air wraps my face,
And another breath I'll take.

The earthly song,
From a mirriad of beak,
An occasional screech,
Hidden in a distant crown.

The forest edge speaks,
With one last howl;
The smalls can seek,
Without being sought.

Now the night has gone,
For the sun is rising;
My dark work is done,
And sleep is calling.

Dated:16th November 2004