December

So black the night, that drives
The gentleness beneath the ground,
And all is want of green and light.

The suddenness, the loss of sight,
Decay and rot,
And all is want of green and light.

Do not despair,
For in the darkest shadows,
When the forest turns its silver out,
There is hope against its might.

Dream of the days and sing,
Of the coming light and what it brings.

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