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christian poem

desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
até sua janela da câmara
não permaneça não mais
como deva mim ajude à direita ao mundo que está indo erradamente
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
eu v todas as sagacidades humanas
na esfera
eu sei o que você está indo dizer
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
porque assim sad meu encantador?

 



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