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sorry poem

wie wie die Sterne dieses Weiß ist, namenlose Gesichter
ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
ich starrte den prachtvollen Himmel an
gestiegen von den Toten
der Blitz blitzte und hob an
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
ich bete nicht für Frieden
in ihren zackigen regimentals

 



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