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halloween poem

wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
einfach sprechend
vor tausend leisen Jahren
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nĂĽchtern
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
ich bin fevered
in ihren zackigen regimentals
schöne, tragical Gesichter

 



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