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sad death poem

dernier minuit
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé
je meurs
une petite pêche dans le verger s'est développée
c'était l'automne de l'année
j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
gloom
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main

 



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