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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2006-05-16 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
in the cemetery of desolate beings, I watch calmly the sun setting down
hiding behind the crypt in which the vampire sucks blood out of the neck of it's screaming victim, that swallows it's own sweet now regretting the sand, that yesterday seemed to choke in a see of torment, with the butcher sun shinning fearfully into an afternoon of white despair, with red infusions the dawn of a new world, rapped up in smoke the doom of a long lost illusion, rapped up in it's own destruction behind the curtain, the fat lady dies chopped up into little pieces the killer unknown, inside our every cell, metaphysics reiterated into our genes crying with every inch of our reality our body, tormented in this carousel driven by eunuchs, lusting for the fresh tears of despair!
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