Holocene.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤlad doth sit, forlorn-lone, upon a bench, of weathered stone; th' moon, silver disc above, watches o'er him, filled with love. his thoughts, a labyrinth, dark and deep, a silent vigil, a soul asleep. a chilling wind, mournful sigh.ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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