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The
stars have dimmed, the moon gone mad The stars have dimmed, the moon gone
mad. You stand alone to praise the night, but you were not that good, and I
was not that bad, The children were dying, their
mothers collapsing, but you reveled in their blight. The stars have dimmed, the moon gone
mad. Your words would never let me relax, my strength dying and my will to
fight, but you were not that good, and I
was not that bad. And I think of all the dreams I had dreamed in the bed beside the stars that dimmed and the moon
gone mad of parents dying, their children
sad. But by the gift of an angel I
realized that you were not that good, and I
was not that bad. So these words will be my last as I disappear into the fog of
night: the stars may have dimmed, the moon
gone mad, but you were not that good, and I
was not that bad. © EXCEL 10/25/02 (Villanelle)
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