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sad poetry

écoutez
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
il parle pas bien
la musique i entendu avec vous était plus que la musique
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant là
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
une vie sur la vague d'océan
je meurs

 



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