The Silent flame,
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Has come once again,
Though it is not the same;.
It has a different fuel,
For it has lost its emerald jewel,
It once outshone the brightest light,
Now it is dim like the darkest moonless night.
But still it burns,
If not quite so loud,
But what it does not yearn,
Is that malicious looking rain cloud.
It has turned a different hue,
One that is dark and blue,
But that will fade away,
Like the clouds on a sunny day.
Silently the flame sits there,
Thinking only one thought,
I will not fade away,
On this gloomy day.
We adore chaos because we love to produce order.
"Death is light as a feather, duty heavier than a mountain."
"The best plan lasts until the first arrow leaves the bow."