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short love poem

if i should die, think only this of me
all down the years
let us plant
the mountains they are silent folk
they in the darkness gather and ask
there is a city, builded by no hand
you are clear
lady, your heart has turned to dust
since i have felt the sense of death
friend, whose smile has come to be
tripping up, falling down
when freedom from her mountain height

 



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