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sad death poem

o ar é como uma borboleta
porque assim sad meu encantador?
acima de e para baixo vai
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
eu sobre-tinha preparado o evento
fraco-é voada a canção
em números mournful
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
mas alas, sonhos justos
simplicity
os dias hypocritic
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
rode-me para baixo pelo prado

 



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