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The Lark
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Tales of the Heart There lies the mark,
The target of the lark
On something so smooth and frail,
Yet it overwhelmed me to fail.
How the music goes,
Sung by the lark to the mark it knows.
In turn it sang back,
As its beauty overflows.
I was left to question,
Is there no other that could call on such attention?
The sunset brought the truth,
This mark lasts til midnight,
And yet all I could do,
Was watch her sing and dance under the moonlight.
