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gothic poetry

desolate und einsam
ein Schimmer des Goldes in gloom und Grau
ich sah ihn einmal vorher
alter Wein zum Trinken
es gibt ein Land voll des Weins
gibt es jedes dort
lassen Sie uns Pity die, denen besser seien Sie weg von, als wir sind
ein Himmel, der nie Sonne, Mond oder Sterne gekannt hat

 



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