Poetry

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When storms under blue skies abide
And shafts from yielded clouds pierce
When darkness under the sun reigns
And dark laughters from days peal

Night we dont understand
So in our palls we turn
From the face of heaven
From the days of other nights

Where mind like lightening slice
Sharper than winter blades
Sharper than steeply hills
And crowns shrouds with stars

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