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gothic poetry

poco parco che attraverso
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
prima del san bronze solenne
dite che lo amate
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
non posso ora dirvi
da solo
i poets dicono a
mai in tutta la mia vita
nobility della morte ancora
ci č un paese in pieno di vino
vedrň stasera una stella
oscillato nella culla del profondo

 



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