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christian poem

os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
do sol nem das estrelas
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
eu vou minha maneira complacently
sadly falando
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
os arcos da ponte vermelha
pharaoh, rei da terra de Egipto
o que mim lhe devem

 



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