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contemporary poetry

você é bonito e desvanecido
nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
mundo que muda sob minha mão
ao lado de um campo stricken
agora que eu lhe esfriei
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade

 



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