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i cant think of any new poems so i'll say one from ages ago


this pulse and breathe that withers slow
no more than deaths old toll
tis mine that creates a fragile hand nothing more than a black crow
sinking deep into despite
thinking less of they night
tis thi king that crys with shame
blessing children with his mighty blade
a fiddle and soul all bundled in one
a touch of a feather shall make this all the same


this is copyrighted and stealing it will really annoy me and i'll report you to gaia moderators...