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christian poem

blau-schwarze nubian zupfende Orangen
wie wie die Sterne dieses Weiß ist, namenlose Gesichter
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
in können Sie
in den mournful Zahlen
Stadt, die nicht eine Stadt ist
warum dann, Muß wir? sieht
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr

 



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