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have you seen walking through the village
there was a strangeness on your lips
lo! 'tis a gala night
in may
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
so fallen
beautiful, tragical faces
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
with the sunset
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
god
grieve not for the invisible
thou unrelenting past

 



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