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The birds of spirit
I can't find your name anymore
As long as I feel dead
in the valley of your face
In another shiny light
Like empty one.
Never seen before.
Our time survived
The loss of the seconds till in one
You were like the burdened tree,
From spirit birds crying that could not sleep...
purple cloud dreaming our flying
Row of extinguished stars
through greenly garden of spirits
Sword love of rugged two blades
of kissing. Cause the penetrate of words had reached
till bones. With no word listen, nor spoken.
poem
by
Vasil Marku
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