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death poetry

tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
le maître des destins humains suis moi
j'ai fait un voeu par le passé, un seulement
êtes vous éveillé?
vous dites que vous m'aimez
je me tiens par temps gris froid
je l'ai vu une fois avant
trois jours je les ai entendus s'affliger quand je m'étends complètement
substance de la lune

 



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