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grandma poem

ci è una città, builded da nessuna mano
ho visto che hunched e rabbrividendo sulle pietre
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
mai in tutta la mia vita
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
sono vecchio e cieco
mescolisi
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
malinconia, azzurro era
ed ancora hanno camminato sopra
glass-blower di tempo
in sua tenda custodita

 



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