Solemn Hour

Solemn landscapes offer no welcome to the wind

Feels like a vagabond has trespassed at this hour of dusk

Those preparing to go home are collecting their thoughts

Trudging along with heavy hearts of unfulfilled dreams

Journeying straight paths feel like the steepest climb  

Echoes sigh of boredom; indifference to all the sayings

Stories are being noted, but misty eyes blur the sentences

At this faint hour, even the boldest seems to be subdued


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