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gothic poetry

qual se mantem
dê-me a fome
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
qual eu desejo observar
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
sob a lua da colheita
você diz que você me ama
têm você ouvido

 



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