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short friendship poem

when i returned at sunset
often i think of the beautiful town
i do not pray for peace
noises that strive to tear
it was the autumn of the year
eighty years have passed, and more
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
white foam flower, red flame flower
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
long has the summer sunlight shone

 



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