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um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
olhar além
seu cabelo bonito
mas alas, sonhos justos
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
pouco parque que eu passo completamente

 



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