Do I always need explaining to your friends - this Interference in their kind complaining? An appearance cometary, that portends this Nervous change of ordinariness for endless Easeless danger, blank before their naming?

Whispers rust, in gardens hide the soft corruptions, Redolent with all the scents of parting; Innocently fretting at our interruptions. Gone the season's flowers - forget-me-nots, wild thyme and Honesty, all summer's old pretending; Turned to something strange and ending night's ill dreaming.
 
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