Do you remember the moon lit
Ivory gardens we once walked
The secret realms we fashioned
Like gods long forgotten
Do you remember the scented
Star pinioned night that was ours alone
And the iris pouring moon
That whispered words arcane
We are but spectres in this haggard and marble realm
Fading shapes in the moon's uncertain light
We are but whispers in the babel of voices
The last echoes of a long dead world
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