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gothic poetry

since, if you stood by my side today
i love the old melodious lays
sleep, gray brother of death
bring me soft song
wheel me down by the meadow
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
it tells of good old times
we lay
one by one, like leaves from a tree
in the sphere
when i was a boy at college
why then, must we see?
who is the runner in the skies
storm

 



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