aforetime, our world this was

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the moon seemed drunk,
the stars intoxicated,
the sun so deeply sunk,
and the sky ill-fated.

thunderstorms instead of rain,
and spring so very plain,
autumn with seldom radiance,
oh, such deep grievance.

seas inadvertently delirious,
oceans delicately mysterious,
sunken soils, drowned ships in winters,
no longer the awakening daylight in summers.

we say,
aforetime, our world this was,
now so demolished, broken for no cause.

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