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type of poetry

the mountains they are silent folk
he came and took me by the hand
if i were very sure
and still they walked on
did you ever hear of
i have had one fear in my life
i wonder where you live
grieve not for the invisible
listen to the sounding sea
i am fevered
sun stepped down from his golden throne
since i have felt the sense of death
as i lie roofed in, screened in
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise

 



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