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broken heart poem

through the broad earth's aching breast
the ships are lying in the bay
gone before us
splendid and terrible your love
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
rising moon has hid the stars
stand here by my side
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
my son is dead and i am going blind
the swan existing
you are beautiful and faded
perhaps

 



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