Oh Shallow moon thou art rife with anger
Your lowly orb hangs free and wild
It draws me, leads me away
I bow before it’s pale pure light
It washes o’re my hair
With strands of cherry wine
Green glades seem filled with ignoble creatures
Darkness fills the burgeoning night
I see the path that lies before me
It radiates from deep within
As long as I do not stray,
I should see home this very night
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