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christian poem

la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
hanno avuti lui e la i ma venuto a contatto di
i giorni hypocritic
mi levo in piedi nel tempo grigio freddo
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
con gli occhi meek e marroni
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
gloom
č spesso non cosě?
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
dal puntello, dal mare
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
ora

 



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