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death poem

filhas do tempo
seu cabelo bonito
e assim vai
era o outono do ano
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
sobre os rooftops compita as sombras das nuvens
caras bonitas, tragical
faça os meninos e as meninas vão ainda
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim

 



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