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sad poem

i heard the wind all day
in halls of sleep you wandered by
i had over-prepared the event
i love the old melodious lays
if i were very sure
death's nobility again
a pen of steel
into the silent land
splendid and terrible your love
the old songs
a little peach in the orchard grew
when, full of warm and eager love
my sorrow, when she's here with me

 



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