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sister poem

the agony of having too much power
world that changes under my hand
shades of night were falling fast
in halls of sleep you wandered by
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
there was a time in former years
thoughts through my head
there is no escape by the river
rocked in the cradle of the deep
a mist was driving down
lo! 'tis a gala night
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
like eagles on up high

 



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