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In the same night the reaper came in,
he tore my heart to pieces, "More", my brain moaned, like in a German Expressionist movie, it screamed in silence, the light falling in dark shades covering the drunken sadness. The reaper sat next to me, his face so pale I could shiver, his cat walking by, without a sound, steps heard in another dream, voices tormenting the impatient echo, I heard tunes coming from the castle, the witness asked: is it another madness, or is it just a performed sadness?
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