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'Ancient in the Night'
A poem by J.M.Boulton
The nightly noose grows colder close
And quickens in, to cool the blood.
The shadows dark – the evening hosts,
To fill the role a mortal should.
A girl of ten is wandering weeping
Across the carpet, along the land,
Whose mother, father, both are sleeping.
Resting with the rest of the damned.
Travels close, and travels far,
To the corners of her world does she.
Upon a dream, as black as tar
Of a lock and broken key.
Travels now, and travels then,
And travels soon, and every night,
And travels why, and travels when,
Till glimpses mist of morning light.
Then mistress young and mistress old,
A daughter of the stars,
Must steal away to her coven of cold
Like a thought to haven fast.
And there she lay, and there she lie
And dwelleth in the house’s core
And dreams her dreams with ancient’s sigh
Until night, and she may roam once more.
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