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 Grandeur Of Melancholy      14879 Poems Read


Revolve


No more sorrow.
No turning those hands.
All your threats are that.

Your revolution!

No more wars.
No fending turf.
All your threats are that.

Your revolution!

All my power is surged.
All the temper revived.
Revere the judgement of your kind.

Your revolution draws near!




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