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suicide poem

no puedo sentir siempre su greatness
placeres mediados de y palacios aunque podemos vagar
espléndido y terrible su amor
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
la noche es oscura, y los vientos del invierno
tenía un sueño y me desperté con él
tan perdido
rompemos el cristal que vino sagrado

 



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