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death poem

i stood
sun stepped down from his golden throne
i have had one fear in my life
now that i have cooled to you
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
i saw with open eyes
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
over the river, on the hill
there are gains for all our losses
weak-winged is song
when the wind works against us in the dark
the pale day drowses on the western steep

 



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