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autumn poem

a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
softly weeping
i am old and blind
let me be sad
simply speaking
if i should die, think only this of me
pharaoh, king of egypt's land
storm
if the red slayer think he slays
i fill this cup
i gazed upon the glorious sky
here lies a most beautiful lady
i cannot always feel his greatness

 



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