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poem for pastors

eu gosto d
até sua janela da câmara
eu vi que o deus você a duvida?
escuro-eyed
a festa real foi feita
eliminar, esforçando-se vainly
como uma vela branca
fora de mim unworthy e desconhecido
eu vi com olhos abertos
como eu me encontro telhado dentro, selecionado dentro
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
gaily através dos campos nós dançamos

 



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