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death poetry

Welt, die unter meiner Hand ändert
gegangen die drei, jene seltenen Schwestern
die Luft ist von Dämmerung und Frühling voll
für dann außen
pharaoh, König von Land Ägyptens
seien Sie nicht mit mir verärgert
ich habe die Welt geworfen
in den mournful Zahlen
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern
ich habe sie in der Nacht gehört

 



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