The Few of the Hour

The morning arrived with nothing but calm and a chill…the barbarous settled to an uneasy truce…within the stillness of the after battle’s soft light and silence…

know the fearful quiet…the utter desolate silence…of predawn’s abandoned solitude…

evening moving with excitement and caution…vague lines on the bastion…the clouds of conflict only the vanishing morning fog … free stepped the flirting flittering frong…

beyond the wall was confusion and denial…within a cynical calm…above settled the vapors of morning into the minds of official and citizen…

the sun passed the meridians and settled under a blanket of black… forgetting the unkind unconsidered words … barbarian and half man placed blanket side to side in contented wonder…

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