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sad death poem

i am dying
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
one with you
i reside at table mountain
sing again the song you sung
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
the arches of the red bridge
there is an hour of peaceful rest
weak-winged is song
through the broad earth's aching breast
with lips blood red and heart of stone
softly weeping
why do
night was black and drear

 



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