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death poem

s'il
les počts le disent
sous la lune de moisson
tous en baisse les années
sommeil, frčre gris de la mort
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
étaient elle pas pour cette odeur singuličre
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
elle était beaucoup et beaucoup d'il y a une année
indéfiniment

 



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