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black poetry

temos nós nenhum shame?
deixe-nos plantar
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
o dia é feito
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
doce e forte
um pensamento doce solemn
era não para esse cheiro singular
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim

 



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