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Falling like snow... so cold,
The time falls upwards on ideas ~Of white doors~ And heavy stones press hard On battered nerves ~To break my will~ The hourglass turns still, With backward steps ~To greet the other day~ And so it ends... they say, When the piano starts to play ~On beat of sudden claps~ Such endless noise: "It plays on words" Spoke fair to me, my tongue And all I am, I loved, In words I write or say And sought to play alone, For one last time...
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