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Movement: Like the drifting withered leaf, Crumpled and dry as it sweeps Down the tree’s limb in agony. Scorched: Like a ship sinking into the never ending sea: A tomb sunken twenty leagues deep. Silent, not a whisper seen. Her corpses: rotted flesh is her ecstasy. Falling: Like the leaf of the tree, Without a sound, no one can see The light escapes between the scene. Only anguish for this last reigning king.
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