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love poem

o oeste velho, o tempo velho
macia weeping
se eu for muito certo
era uma beleza nos dias
havia um strangeness em seus bordos
a escuridăo rola para cima
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
olhar além
lá pela janela na casa velha
e nse
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
eu quero saber onde vocę vive

 



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