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anniversary poem

escuro-eyed
no recolhimento da escuridão e pedem
eu estou morrendo
jogaram uma pedra, você jogaram uma pedra
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
as montanhas são povos silenciosos
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor

 



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