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epic poetry

pouca porta foi alcançada no último
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
em possa
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
nós que estiveram
o dia é feito
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
mulher boa
trançado e tecido

 



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