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good bye poem

uma tempestade está montando na maré
uma milha atrás
o sol pisou para baixo de seu throne dourado
splendor doce
quem é o corredor nos céus
melancolia, azul era
era uma beleza nos dias
balançado no berço do profundo
três anos há hoje
eu vi que você hunched e tiritando nas pedras
irmão, eu sou fogo
quem estará nomeando o vento

 



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