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christian poetry

nas manhăs nuvem-cinzentas
uma tempestade está montando na maré
e ainda andaram sobre
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
um pensamento doce solemn
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble

 



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