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Where Are the Passionless Eyes?
Where are the passionless eyes,
Piercing the cradle of night
And smothered in stars?
Will the pale criminal remember them
In a riot of body
Or the languid panther deny them entrance?
Few now recall the black s*men of Caesar
Or the rotting bodies of his dismembered slaves,
Only his words were perfect
And his soldiers lie sleeping in eloquent graves.
poem
by
John Thorkild Ellison
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