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black poetry

ma non posso ora leggerlo
dialo
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
quindi non posso
una foschia stava guidando giů
quegli occhi neri i una volta cosě elogiato
pharaoh, re della terra dell'egitto
babylon -- dove vado sognare
dal pavimento al soffitto
della l'oscuritŕ e pace nel mia base finale

 



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