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love poetry chat

la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
perchč sono le cose che non hanno morte
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
ora per una lotta attiva e cheerful
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
la festivitŕ reale č stata fatta
non eravamo molti

 



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