his silent eyes
of springtime breeze
sing solemn sighs
of souls at ease
the sighs of one
whose fluttered heart
has blessed his run
inspiring art
through flame of eyes
this molten beats
of hunger cries
and kingly feats
but she'd know not
he speaks of her
as time forgot
to set their stir
so here he'll wait
to set the stage
though some come late
his kind don't age
~moses apollo
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