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baby poem

i am dying
when the wind works against us in the dark
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
as a naked man i go
master of human destinies am i
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
there are gains for all our losses
let a joy keep you
weak-winged is song
i saw god. do you doubt it?
the agony of having too much power
a look is but a ray

 



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