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haiku poem

sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
Ă© frequentemente nĂŁo assim?
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
meu amor verdadeiro de seu descanso levantou-se
truely
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
não gire sua cabeça

 



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