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memorial poem

sweet splendor
a pen of steel
but alas, just dreams
if the red slayer think he slays
we were not many
he came and took me by the hand
i know what you're going to say
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
i stand in the cold gray weather
on and on
what was it the engines said
will you glimmer on the sea?
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong

 



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