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The soft wind whispers her sad, silent song,
The sun sinks from the sky, and shadows grow long.
Somewhere in the night, someone draws his last breath,
And close by, a new birth replaces the death.
The sands of time slip slow through our fingers,
Taking with them the darkness that lingers.
The last beam of moonlight fades and is gone
And the sun reaches out and offers the dawn.
(The Nighttime of Souls, 1993)