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sad death poem

like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
but i cannot read you now
simply speaking
i had a dream and i awoke with it
she limps with halting painful pace
let us express our baser passions
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
do not turn your head
better than granite
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
there is no escape by the river
rocked in the cradle of the deep

 



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