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friend poetry

sous la feuille sombre de laurier
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
je ne prie pas pour la paix
l'obscurité
certains des maux que vous avez traités
le soleil est vers le haut
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
je suis le vent qui hésite
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
comme des aigles sur la haute haute

 



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