The history is gone
The plague of our time
Giving wings to children
In the heavy presence of oceans
Letters from death row
Hummed in songs bygone
Farewells reach back the centuries
Now humble by death
And came the great end
When things were just beginning
Youth peeked through the skin
In animal spirit
And in covert longing
I carve my name to the last tree
To mark my final territory
The count of days for symmetry
And the universe is solitary.

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