Solstice of the soul, The light is dimmer.
It's not the clouds,
nor the cold of winter.
nor the wind or lacking snow.
It's hope; wholeheartedly shadowed.
by titanic labor and floods of ethanol.
Fewer hours daily
Of our youthful rebellion
And this ship is going down
with this white collar hellion.
No hero for the pen
no king for the paper
Just unpaid mercenaries of Art
Embodying the philosophy of "later".
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