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acrostic poem

em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
talvez
eu moldei o mundo
no alvorecer, disse
macio como a cama na terra
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
do assoalho ao teto
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade

 



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