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christian poem

qui est le coureur dans les cieux
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
de la chanson et du ręve pour jamais allé
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
avec les yeux doux et bruns
ce que je souhaite remarquer
tranquillement, avec le reverance, dans la crainte
et mon nom est véridique
laissez-moi ętre triste
les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
il parle pas bien

 



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