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halloween poetry

wenn Nacht entlang den Straßen der Stadt treibt
neben es gab nie einen Ton das Holz aber eins
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
ich bete nicht für Frieden
babylon -- wo ich gehe zu träumen
süsses splendor
in den mournful Zahlen
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind


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