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sad death poem

there is no escape by the river
i've won the race
these be
pharaoh, king of egypt's land
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
glass-blower of time
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
little gate was reached at last
gloom
over the river they beckon to me
those black eyes i once so praised
listen to the sounding sea
this is the song of youth

 



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