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christian poetry

mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
se déclenchant vers le haut, tombant vers le bas
un oiseau a chanté
elle pourrait l'avoir su en ressort premier
j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie
le long d'une rive
splendor doux
par le pont grossier
je ne brûle aucun encens
la musique i entendu avec vous était plus que la musique
exprimons nos passions plus basses
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent

 



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