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def poetry

la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
dai nostri posti nascosti
le verità terribili questi sono
amo rubare per un po'via
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
devo dire buona notte
chi è il corridore nei cieli
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
quando libertà dalla sua altezza della montagna
per coprire il pensiero ardente

 



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