.Le portail de fonte
Se dresse majestueux,
Veillant, tel un archonte,
Sur ce paisible lieu.
Le silence ici pose,
Sur le marbre luisant,
Une porte de sang
Qui est à jamais close.
Errant en mal d'horreur,
Las, je traîne mon corps,
Humain cerné de fleurs,
V.
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