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death poetry

comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
mélancolie, bleu il était
il y a un pays complètement de vin
à l'amoureux passionné
les cieux qu'ils étaient ashen et sobre
cette année
une brume entraînait une réduction
hauts murs et énorme

 



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