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angel poem

ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
escute o mar soando
uma milha atrás
na meia-noite
deixe um sustento da alegria você
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
em todas as coisas não faladas de
o céu
um com você
deixe-nos plantar
mil anos silenciosos há
acima dos prados ricos com milho
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos

 



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