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i miss you poem

warum
Sturm
Roses und Gold
in den mournful Zahlen
Überschreiten durch die huddled und häßlichen Wände
die Schatten der Schiffe
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
Sie sind frei
herauf von den Süden am Bruch des Tages
ich bin alt und blind
ich sah, daß Gott Sie es? bezweifeln
einige der Hurts, die Sie kuriert haben

 



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