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Before i go a-whoring after my idolized self
Before i go a whoring after my idolized self;
my thoughts shall sheave and burn with caustic tears,
i shall relume the blood that darkened at the alter of Teutonic elf,
with relic poems i shall bathe away this forth-backing fears.
before praise falls deeply in to my coaming cracks,
And the gloomy high clouds bring wakeful rain to Leteng's remnants
Like a clove-hitch the rope shall pass round twice
and both ends shall pass under loop in front to honor your fading tracks
before silence crawls through the reefs of my conscience,
before the dusting evacuates peace from my soul,
before they sentence me to lend a hand in hauling ropes
i shall first call at your grave
before i go a-whoring after my idolized self,
before i become a word muttered by every mind
poets i have never known
i shall know
And poets i know
i shall never forget.
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