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poem for dad

abaixo do helm do guerreiro
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
ao longo dos bancos
fraco-é voada a canção
eu ouvi-me que uma determinada princesa
a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
sono, irmão cinzento da morte
não se aflija que sobre
quando eu retornei no por do sol
era não para esse cheiro singular
o prado estava rastejando
melhore do que o granito

 



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