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friend poetry

a festa real foi feita
homem frio stern
eu sou o vento que wavers
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
o corpo pode confinar
a neve sussurra sobre mim
eu estou morrendo
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
eu detestei-o
na esfera
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
paredes e enorme elevados

 



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