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funeral poem

melancholy days have come
mysterious night
love me at last, or if you will not
if the red slayer think he slays
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
when night drifts along the streets of the city
brother, i am fire
perhaps
for these white arms about my neck
listen to the sounding sea
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
stand here by my side

 



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