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family poem

souvent je pense à la belle ville
la noblesse de la mort encore
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
ombres à ailes balayant près
et mon nom est véridique
regardez dehors sur les étoiles, mon amour
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie

 



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