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epic poetry

ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
seien Sie nicht falsch
die Berge sind sie leise Völker
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
das Swanbestehen
ich bildete ein Versprechen einmal, eins nur
die Schwärzung stiehlt die Formen aller Königinnen
es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen

 



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