When the moonlight doth cut through the mist like a knife through butter,
It guides me to the place where I may rest and dream of butterfly wings a flutter.
Under my blanket I'm safe from the slowly creeping cold,
Alone in my bed i wait for age to catch up and slowly grow old.
I know not what lady luck has in store for me at the end of this journey,
All I know is that it won't be more than a flicker in my fleeting memory.
But one thing for sure to this quest i am bound,
No turning back until the springs in my clock are unwound.
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