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HISTORY REMEMBERS
And the sun
falls
Golden and bright
light
disappearing
into the arms
of night
Love weeping
memory
reaping the history
known only
to lonely
soldiers
Sleep is ashamed of itself
because it dreams
and the color of itself
runs upon the pages of
a book
that is forgotten
Sleep in peace
my friends
Death
awaits us all
at the corner of ourselves
History remembers
and calls out
our name.