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gothic poetry

agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
questi sono
uno per uno, come va da un albero
quando un atto č fatto per la libertŕ
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
cammino giů i percorsi del giardino
il singolo pugno serrato alzato e ready
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
era molte e molto un anno fa
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
ho detto, io ho chiuso il mio cuore
ho detto

 



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