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good bye poem

tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
environ porté plainte au maître
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
doucement pleurant
vous vous rappelez
sans aucun doute je me rappelle toujours
substance de la lune
il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
la lumière retirée

 



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