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Spectral poets.
Spectral poets, their runes stir in my head;
Buried embers trying to lick to flame.
Their words evergreen, lest fools say them dead.
Shimmering Aurora's in the night sky;
Willow wisp's light gave, flickered out sans fame;
Immortality to you they now hie.
Think well? Gray thoughts of uncertainty steal.
They mused; elder spoke, do nay fear ta try;
Toil to our lead, we’a tech ya ways reel.
Follow us soft breathed; you know but token
Surreal colors for the ocean and sky.
At last, now the dark scales fall from your eyes.
Now you see how we live on yet we die.
Fall in with us, for our hands are now bone.
Cruelly silenced by death, our swords broken.
Re-forge their shards; use them for bil-bo hone.
We yearn; still yearn to put thought to paper;
Our phantasmal fingers scribe on vapor.
Let us share our pen strokes placed in your mind;
For we be gentle spirits, gently bind.
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