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suicide poem

glooms des vivre-chênes
se déclenchant vers le haut, tombant vers le bas
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
foncé-eyed
écoutez
certains des maux que vous avez traités
là où je trouvez-vous
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal
parmi les montagnes j'ai erré
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
une pensée gentiment solennelle
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding

 



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