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RUSHING WIND
©Gary Bowman

Once, the Days of Dragon’s Might
Like Camelot, Thru prismic light (Prismic light)
Rusted swords on barren ground
Silent world, No solace found (Solace found)

Such the heartless rush of wind 
That in life’s finite season,
I’d not see you again (See you again)
Wait for the Dawn
When hope is gone
We shall carry on

Cosmic Dust obscures the Light
Gone the Days of Dragons’ Might
Their season is the night
Now hollow all delight