Dying - Poem by Lev Brekhman
Steps, so faltering, under the rain.
Drops of his blood galore,
One of the arteries cut, not the main.
Somebody's killing valor…
Air becoming thin and weak
Bloodied knife fell behind…
God has forsaken all the weak.
Who ever thought he was kind?
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You