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os prayers brancos pequenos
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
você é meu companheiro
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
do sol nem das estrelas
nós que estiveram
quando eu retornei no por do sol
pensamentos através de minha cabeça
em seus regimentals ásperos
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado
existir da cisne

 



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