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gothic poetry

a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
eu sei não onde
caído assim
eu não queimo nenhum incense
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
diz de épocas velhas boas
uma vez este turf macio
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
deixe um sustento da alegria você
quando liberdade de sua altura da montanha
pela ponte rude
o dia é feito

 



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