Desolate Abby
By Evan.T.Dearhart
Thu, 17 Nov 2005
- 835 reads
Leaves falling on a desolate Abby,
strange to see the time dead fall.
Music coming from the stons,
soothing away all fears.
standing still among the arches,
an old monks haunt
where all my dreams now take me,
just to stand
and listen
a place where only i can see
and i alone can stay
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