Glioca's Fear

Damiel, Glioca Priest of Mileth

I fear the night when comforts no longer appear.
When the deaths I feel and the screams I hear,
replace the sweet love, and tender passes in the street.
when cold hearts replace the Spring's natural heat.
I fear the field fallow from the Grim One's overuse.
When storm's clouds muscle laughter into recluse.
I fear the half-given gift. Where all is plain,
misery, blight and pain.
Where smiles are hard as wood, and carved 'gainst the grain
I fear the wrong half of a broken heart's disclaim.

Circa Deoch 20

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