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Night poetry [ ]
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - by Adrian Berbec [sad ]
2004-05-01
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His thought has changed.
He can understand and bend
As his will commands
Arms die
Instead, large veins grow.
As they rupture, the wings of blood
Grow strong.
He starts to fly for the sky.
Dusk.
All to just die halfway.
But in the fall, so large a shade,
Of wings extended, covers the sky
Night.
Dawn.
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