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life poem

juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
avec la joie et la merveille
mon âme disparaît plaquée dans des choses magnifiques
mélancolie, bleu il était
hors de la mer de scintillement
un regard est mais un rayon
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
regarder là-bas
éliminer, luttant vainly

 



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