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love poem

a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
há uma hora do descanso calmo
raça elevado-carregada
como ela
nós não éramos muitos
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
gloom
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
sumário em uma noite do vôo
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
na obscuridade e na paz de minha cama final

 



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