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thanksgiving poem

j'aime les vieilles configurations melodious
voyez que je me donne vous
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
prenez mes bracelets
désolé et seul
un dieu
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
pourquoi si triste mon bel?

 



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