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son poem

para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
melhore do que o granito
o doce com fern e levantou-se
eu encho este copo
os dias melancólicos vieram
a escuridão
envolva a terra no tempo cloudy
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
levantado dos mortos
uma pena do aço
em setembro
como uma vela branca
a luz retirada

 



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