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haiku poetry

i cannot always feel his greatness
master of human destinies am i
in and of itself
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
in halls of sleep you wandered by
by the shore, by the sea
do not grieve that it is over
up from the meadows rich with corn
under the harvest moon
why are the things that have no death
along the banks
passing through huddled and ugly walls

 



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