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acima do sul na ruptura do dia
alguns dos hurts que vocĂŞ se curou
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
disse
eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
algum queixou-se ao mestre
mil anos silenciosos há
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingĂĽeta
envolva a terra no tempo cloudy
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu

 



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