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funeral poem

eu era um goddess ere o mármore me encontrou
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
da canção e do sonho para ido sempre
ao longo dos bancos
ame-me no último, ou se você não
eu ouvi-os na noite
do sol nem das estrelas
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
até sua janela da câmara
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei

 



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