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epic poetry

duas fileiras dos repolhos
năo gire sua cabeça
sabe uma liberaçăo barata
ao longo de um river-side
a escuridăo
o sol está acima
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
na terra silenciosa
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro

 



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