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short poem

as evening falls
i have heard that a certain princess
pushing out, struggling vainly
musing, between the sunset and the dark
i gazed upon the glorious sky
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
he'd even have his joke
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
in his guarded tent
afraid no more, i say
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
it was the autumn of the year

 



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