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angel poem

ame-me no último, ou se você não
macia weeping
eu não pray para a paz
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
eu detestei-o
a escuridão rola para cima
travails da terra
têm você ouvido
quando eu estive escutar, discreetly dumb
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
havia um momento em anos anteriores
qual se mantem

 



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