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def poetry

this ancient silver bowl of mine
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
musing, between the sunset and the dark
for then without
if i should die, think only this of me
i cannot always feel his greatness
a life on the ocean wave
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
when, full of warm and eager love
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
little gate was reached at last
love me at last, or if you will not
storm

 



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