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gothic poetry

era o outono do ano
desde que, se você estiver por meu lado hoje
fala não bem
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
irmão, eu sou fogo
assim perdido
para prestar atenção o dia inteiro à onda azul ondular e quebrar
o mais saddest do ano
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
um olhar é mas um raio

 



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