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At the evening’s dawn,
people were drawn.
For a party to be,
out by the sea.
Out by the sea,
would these mourners be.
As they spoke in a tone
of rich monotone.
“Christ”, said they
awaiting the day,
“to you her soul
so rich like gold.”
At daybreak they shed
the tears for her death.
Chanting as one
her name in the sun.
As noon did soon come,
their mourning was done.
“A party”, said they,
“till dusk shall we stay.”
Till twilight they fed,
while another was dead.
“We must mourn her now”
spoke a man with a scowl.
At the evening’s dawn,
people were drawn.
For a party to be,
out by the sea.
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