A Fable; Part Three–The End

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But there were fireworks and this was the glory
For this is just another story
Slowly the Grey Rose would die away
And the Piano’s tunes, forgotten
The two—buried apart
And the memoirs will also fade
Yet the stars would still be there
And the moon, the sun
And the freckled sky
And somewhere would fly a Purple Dove
And a Blue Kite would fall in love with it
Glass will shatter and the pages will turn
Swings will oscillate and the pendulum will break
For such is love; a curious display

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