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christmas poems

como ella
la oscuridad rueda hacia arriba
el sol caminó abajo de su trono de oro
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
para mí era concejal gaunt, grave
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
para venir tan pronto a esto imaginaba obscuridad
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente

 



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