A Tryst in Interlude
I rise when gilded starlight still replete the skies
Never have I beckoned hours of abstruse sleeping
I hear elegiac trills as a lone nightingale cries,
evoking memories that conjure tears of weeping
In halcyon moments before the paling of dawn
I contemplate my sentiments in tranquil solitude
Before the world awakens with an unstifled yawn,
the moon, sun, and I rendezvous; tryst in interlude
When velvet darkness fades to soft aurorean glints,
there, upon the horizon is painted a nuanced murk
Colors of daybreak; a blended mural in pastel tints,
created by a grand Artisan's hand, the Master's work
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