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funeral poem

teria mesmo seu gracejo
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim
minha mãe ensinou-me que cada noite
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
qual se mantem
para a verdade, para o amor
as estrelas caíram do heaven
este é o arsenal
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
acima de e para baixo vai

 



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