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death poem

have you heard
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
master of human destinies am i
i have heard that a certain princess
see i give myself to you
in halls of sleep you wandered by
do i like it
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
their beautiful hair
your body's motion is like music
skies they were ashen and sober
shades of night were falling fast
i gazed upon the glorious sky
beneath my window in a city street

 



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