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dark poetry

ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat
und mit dem Summenvogel
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
was es die gesagten Maschinen war
ich bin alt und blind
in den mournful Zahlen
Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
ich gehe hinunter die Gartenwege
ein Nebel fuhr unten

 



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