The Old Woman
About death that comes for you...
As a white candle
In a holy place
So is the beauty
Of a aged face
As the spent radiance
Of the winter sun
So is a woman
With her travail done
Her children gone from her
And her thoughts as still
Under a dark ground
Will give her rest and she will come no more
In a holy place
So is the beauty
Of a aged face
As the spent radiance
Of the winter sun
So is a woman
With her travail done
Her children gone from her
And her thoughts as still
Under a dark ground
Will give her rest and she will come no more
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