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black poetry

la mia anima ティ un campo arato scuro
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
quale si conservare
perchティ allora, il mosto noi vede?
nobility della morte ancora
ci ティ una cittテ, builded da nessuna mano
parla non bene
l'odore del ティ aumentato cosテャ falso, le spine cosテャ allineare
nella sfera
da solo
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
del sole nテゥ stelle
ティ allineare che dite che i dii sono piテケ uso a voi che i fairies

 



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