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inspirational poem

tranquillement, avec le reverance, dans la crainte
j'ai eu un ręve et je me suis réveillé avec lui
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
sommeil, frčre gris de la mort
dans ma main je me tiens
qui appellera le vent
souffleur de verre de temps

 



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