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gothic poetry

têm você não ouvido
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
fala não bem
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
calma como que segundo verão
rosas e ouro
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
os dias hypocritic
dê-me a fome
composto do loveliness sozinho

 



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