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sad poem

et pain de breaketh pas plus
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant lŕ
ce qui je vous doivent
sous la lune de moisson
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
le jour est fait
il n'y avait jamais un bruit prčs du bois mais d'un
je vous chante
c'est l'arsenal

 



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