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OH!

THAT DIRTY COFFIN

Clacking a dirty coffin

Have I found in a rare dreaming

Bunches of people in white skin

Under an hemorrhagic red rain.

How strange I felt when I saw the grim

Rattling its scythe behind me

Outstanding on the tool, there was a raven bird

Glazing at the coffin now buried.

Clacking a souvenir of that dirty coffin

Have I found among people weeping

Now on the ground fertilized

Stayed the corps of my gramp, I realized.

Harold Camilo Acosta Daza

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