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poem and quote

todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
tempestade
sob a folha dusky do laurel
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
o dia é feito
três anos há hoje
não gire sua cabeça
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer

 



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