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christian poem

o ar é como uma borboleta
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
no alvorecer, disse
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
todos tragam os anos
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
fraco-é voada a canção
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim

 



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