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Sun wearing death clothes today
While I play the corpse,
don’t crave for man solidarity
just for courage of dying,
took for it down in my countryside
all along those slimy bogs
or within the rugged rind of slumbering trees.
Calling death with all the breath that’s left,
grand exount
an histrionic gesture
and the mask is off,
my farewell script
a last poem is laid.
One more final chance
to get you into my spirit.
And the storm overhangs.

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