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epic poetry

doux comme lit dans la terre
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
la noblesse de la mort encore
pour pouvoir voir chaque côté de chaque question
améliorez que le granit
près d'un champ en détresse
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
basculé dans le berceau du profond
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été

 



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