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baby poem

sono il vento che esita
andato prima di noi
morbido come la base nella terra
mistero piů scuro e piů sconosciuto
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
scattando in su, cadendo
un gleam di oro il gloom in e gray
riempio questa tazza
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tč
nobility della morte ancora

 



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