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poetry poem

talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
eu não pray para a paz
agora para uma luta viva e cheerful
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
fala não bem
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
sob a folha dusky do laurel

 



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