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dark poetry

pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant là
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
donnez-moi
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
il y a un pays complètement de vin
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté

 



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