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death poetry

mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
per allora senza
pharaoh, re della terra dell'egitto
non sia arrabbiato con me
ho lanciato il mondo
nei numeri mournful
benchč repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
li ho sentiti nella notte

 



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