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sad poem

questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
le tonalitĂ  della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
la canzone e sogno da per andato mai
sono fevered
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
dove io trovili
non rimanga nient'altro
abbiamo nessuno shame?
cammino giĂą i percorsi del giardino
l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare

 



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