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love poetry chat

doux comme lit dans la terre
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
laissez une subsistance de joie vous
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
est souvent il pas aussi?
si j'étais très sûr
j'ai dit
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
dans sa tente gardée
un regard est mais un rayon
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
je vous attends

 



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