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sad death poem

la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
ciò è la nave della perla
ho avuto un timore nella mia vita
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala

 



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