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death poem

a mist was driving down
in halls of sleep you wandered by
moonlight deep and tender
the sun is up
sun stepped down from his golden throne
the darkness
they ask me where i've been
master of human destinies am i
for truth, for love
love me at last, or if you will not
you are clear
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
now for a brisk and cheerful fight

 



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