- 2024.6.30
O, Gentle Soul,
Gently breathing sorrow,
Sighing like a Deluge foretold
By the Lightening fierce and bold
Bursting through the purple Nights of Old
Before the Crescent Moon wore her garments cold.
O, Gentle Soul,
Gently breathing sorrow,
Sighing like a Deluge foretold
By the Lightening fierce and bold
Bursting through the purple Nights of Old
Before the Crescent Moon wore her garments cold.