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evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
before the solemn bronze saint
with lips blood red and heart of stone
within my hand i hold
i do not pray for peace
i saw with open eyes
who is the runner in the skies
the air is full of dawn and spring
there was a strangeness on your lips
grieve not for the invisible
in the cloud-gray mornings
why are the things that have no death
i despise my friends more than you
a storm is riding on the tide

 



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