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The dawn that day rose Just as the mist of the night Subsided like a foam descending To reveal clear water ahead The bees in the hive stirred about To retrieve more honey It was on that day that I stared into the Mirror of luck. Hours passed by just As flies whizzed under a scorchy sun The foam above the crystal water rose again The mist of the dusk rose high above me shattering the mirror to grits I plunged down from a mountain Into the depths of dreariness It