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romantic love poems

night was black and drear
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
you say you love me
i have heard that a certain princess
i stood
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
she limps with halting painful pace
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
as i lie roofed in, screened in

 



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