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sad poetry

mon âme disparaît plaquée dans des choses magnifiques
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
quelques jours plus venteux
ne restez pas plus
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
ville qui n'est pas une ville
j'ai dit, j'ai fermé mon coeur
en dessous de cette tombe modeste un conqueror se trouve
à certains les gros dieux

 



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