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gothic poetry

three years ago today
so fallen
you are my companion
in halls of sleep you wandered by
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
shades of night were falling fast
risen from the dead
eighty years have passed, and more
my true love from her pillow rose
the old songs
softly weeping
there was a strangeness on your lips

 



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