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| A poem about one of the two central cities in my novel-to-be, Tetiana. |
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Hetathi
Mist rises off the waters
Of the cool and silent lake,
Spreading o’er penanted towers,
Leaving dew-drops in it’s wake.
Twilight grows until the dawning
Of a bright and busy day,
And with the hot sun’s rising
All the damp is burned away.
Slowly, like a trickling stream,
People flow into the streets,
Bustling out in the soft gleam
Morn’s rhythm within them beats.
Hetathi, city beautiful!
Basking on the Mirror’s edge--
Bright and full and e’er watchful,
University’s fair hedge.
Behind thy gates all knowledge lies
Protected from the passing time,
Held forth till Order’s last demise
For use past reason, heart, or rhyme.
Deep within that school of thought--
Honored, renowned, feared--
A secret hides, forever caught
Held within snares ever thus geared.
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| banished | Tetiana: Part 9 |
| Tetiana: prologue | Tetiana: Part 10 |
| Tetiana: Part 12 | Tetiana: Part 11 |
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