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  • Writer's pictureAndrew M. Davis


Oh darkened hands of withered night.

Do you not see yonder?

Pale faces forced white,

An absence to ponder.

Some fear thy might.

Those cower in hiding.

An unparalleled height.

A different way of fighting.

Oh brightened hands of glorious day.

The time draws for mending.

For some see the way.

Though others aren't bending.

So what say you today?

Here comes night.

Finally that we may,

Introduce light.

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