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christian poem

tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
um pensamento doce solemn
traga-me a canção macia
em sua barraca guardada
se eu for muito certo
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
em números mournful
qual eu desejo observar
este é o arsenal
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
onde deva mim encontre-o
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer

 



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