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lyric poetry

einige der Hurts, die Sie kuriert haben
schreckliche Wahrheiten diese sind
sie sprengte fierce Wein
aus mir heraus unwürdig und unbekannt
in den mournful Zahlen
Nacht ist dunkel und die Winterwinde
Gedanken durch meinen Kopf
es ist zutreffend, daß Sie sagen, daß die Götter mehr Gebrauch zu Ihnen als Feen sind
ich bin vom Sein bitter und träge vom Sein klug träge


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