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angel poem

et ils marchaient toujours dessus
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
je la pense splendide juste
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
je vais ma manière complacently
mon âme disparaît plaquée dans des choses magnifiques
homme froid sévère
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient

 



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