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Tuesday, 17 October 2006 |
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Licence infinite, sanctuary from the pastures where angels fear to treadgold and silver threadin the tapestry Ones need to listen, another’s to saylike that today, tomorrow to changelike innocence, like shameetched so as not to wastecome passions too killing for ignorance Augmented, diminished, up and downNot with note but with muted soundunder voice imagined that talks the faithless roundSmiles the face from berated frown.
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Last Updated ( Thursday, 27 December 2007 )
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