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black poetry

j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
donnez-moi
qui appellera le vent
j'ai regardé sur le ciel glorieux
le soleil a fait un pas vers le bas de son trône d'or
tous apaisent le long du potomac
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai

 



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