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epic poetry

apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
os céus que eram ashen e sober
eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
receoso não mais, eu digo
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem

 



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