Upon the time of sparrow chirp, We breathe in the air defile, For miles away from us are the birch, To elate our mourning profile.
Yet again towards the morn we proceed, Embarks the incessant disturbance, In numerous deals we succeed, But to her hindrance.
The noon approaches in a haste, She casts away her radiance, Momentary peace drifts in for a taste, To her devolved audience.
Comes forth the hour of twilight, Though don't end our endeavors, She presents an abstruse sight, For those who are known to her favours.
In its turn advents the charcoal sky, Retreating back to our confines, We obliterate to observe the stars high, Yet to us always ajar are her mines.
We exploit her with the best, Seldom do we regret, Apocalypse commences, lest; We pay the Herculean debt.
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