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daughter poem

il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
en matins nuage-gris
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
le soleil a fait un pas vers le bas de son trône d'or
musing, entre le coucher du soleil et l'obscurité
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
comme je me trouve couvert dedans, examiné dedans
du soleil ni des étoiles
gloom

 



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