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broken heart poem

environ porté plainte au maître
un avec vous
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
la terre garde aller de vibration
la noblesse de la mort encore
ne soyez pas faux
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux

 



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