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dark poetry

in september
when i go back to earth
the body may confine
shades of night were falling fast
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
the shadows of the ships
beautiful, tragical faces
stern cold man
there is an hour of peaceful rest
noises that strive to tear
i loathed you
though love repine, and reason chafe
glass-blower of time
to clothe the fiery thought

 



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