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death poem

of sun nor stars
moonlight deep and tender
i loathed you
and how could you dream of meeting
what spiteful chance steals unawares
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
brief on a flying night
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
when freedom from her mountain height
as i lie roofed in, screened in
god

 



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