my night walker

he listens to the solemn silence

he listens to the wind

and all around him

gunshots howling

people drowning

he cannot hear anything but silence

or see anything but a dim glow

the tramp that lives just down the road

asks for a coin

he walks straight past

as if in a trance

until as if by magic

the cry of the wolf is heard

he watches as the moon doth rise

and the senseless trance of day dissappers

this young man of mine

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