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gothic poetry

truely
esté en mí como los humores eternos
camino abajo de las trayectorias del jardĂ­n
me preguntan donde he estado
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
el dulce con el fern y se levantĂł
si muero, piense solamente esto en mĂ­
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
hay cualquiera allĂ­

 



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