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christian poem

metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
quindi non posso
era una bellezza nei giorni
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
eliminazione, lottante vainly
forse è materia che avete morto
sto cantando voi
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
ha incurvato l'inondazione
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
all'interno della mia mano tengo
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
penso spesso alla città bella

 



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