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death poetry

the hypocritic days
i know what you're going to say
do i like it
i have cast the world
out of the sparkling sea
listen
i've won the race
i am the wind that wavers
when i looked into your eyes
there is no flock, however watched and tended
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
your body's motion is like music
i cannot always feel his greatness

 



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