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religious poem

puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
hice una pausa el marco abierto
en y de sí mismo
poca puerta fue alcanzada en el último
como águilas en colmo ascendente
con su pelo flaying violentamente
en todas las cosas no habladas de
porqué lo haga
debajo de un árbol de la castaña que se separa
estoy muriendo
cuando volví en la puesta del sol

 



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