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gothic poetry

un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
dove io trovili
sono una donna
nobility della morte ancora
abbiamo nessuno shame?
vado il mio senso complacently
mescolisi
ma non posso ora leggerlo
metŕ di piaceri e palazzi benchč possiamo vagare
quando un atto č fatto per la libertŕ
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness

 



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