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death poem

afraid no more, i say
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
lady, your heart has turned to dust
i fill this cup
i have to say good-night
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
tripping up, falling down
now while my lips are living
up and down he goes
the shadows of the ships
calm as that second summer
the agony of having too much power
in your arms was still delight

 



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