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sad poem

escute o mar soando
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
uplifting, como o vento fundiu
não do mundo largo do todo
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
eu detestei-o
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
ruídos que strive rasgar
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
havia um momento em anos anteriores
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
sob a lua da colheita
eu sou velho e cego
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo

 



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