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death poem

dicami
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
braided e tessuto
lascili pity coloro di che sia migliore fuori che noi sono
ci era un momento durante gli anni precedenti
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato
sono vecchio e cieco

 



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