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epic poetry

j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
ne soyez pas faux
les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
exister de cygne
j'ai fait un voeu par le passé, un seulement
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
j'ai gagné la course

 



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