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sad poetry

ombres à ailes balayant près
tous en baisse les années
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
leurs beaux cheveux
j'au-dessus-avais préparé l'événement
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
truely
elle a éclaté le vin féroce

 



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