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gothic poetry

ho avuto un timore nella mia vita
fiori dei bambini
mi chiedono dove sono stato
fate non sentirsi
uomo freddo severo
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
li ha fatti mai vedono un coccodrillo
nobility della morte ancora

 



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