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death poetry

a senhora, seu coração girou para a poeira
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
eu vi com olhos abertos
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
o amor foi cantado mil maneiras
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente

 



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