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death poetry

i heard the wind all day
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
to clothe the fiery thought
why so sad my lovely one?
i have heard that a certain princess
what do i owe to you
melancholy, blue it was
full of tears
i have to say good-night
i wonder where you live
arched the flood
when night drifts along the streets of the city
backward, turn backward
the darkness rolls upward

 



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