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gothic poetry

eu tive um medo em minha vida
flores dos bebês
perguntam-me onde eu estive
têm você não ouvido
homem frio stern
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
nobility da morte outra vez

 



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