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sad poem

levantado dos mortos
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
nossos momentos agradáveis voam
este é o arsenal
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
quando eu retornei no por do sol
todo meu amor para meu doce
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
e nse
última meia-noite

 



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