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Nox (Night)
Swiftly, silently, secretly
it comes.
White to gray, gray to black,
the shadow encroaches.
Hope fades,
fear reigns,
but then
the stars come out.
And they are beautiful.
Whispers of secrets
and untold stories
lie in wait.
In the night
all that could be,
not should be,
exists.
Our terror,
sharp in claw and fang,
is simply fear of the unknown,
or at least
the unseen.
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