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dark poetry

on and on
do not grieve that it is over
my sorrow, when she's here with me
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
sun stepped down from his golden throne
skies they were ashen and sober
she limps with halting painful pace
this is the song of youth
you are beautiful and faded
i stood
from floor to ceiling
i am old and blind
here falls no light
with her hair flaying wildly

 



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