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best love poem

ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
ci è una città, builded da nessuna mano
nobility della morte ancora
rose ed oro
sonno, fratello grigio della morte
nei numeri mournful
alcuni giorni piĂą ventosi
tristemente parlando
scuro-eyed
in pieno delle rotture
perchè facciali sempre basamento là che rabbrividisce
è ci qualcuno là
vecchio vino da bere
in sua tenda custodita

 



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