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death poetry

così caduto
una foschia stava guidando giù
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta così tanto oro
sono il vento che esita
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
conosco che cosa state andando dire
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta
il più triste dell'anno
nei numeri mournful
senza sosta
conosce un rilascio poco costoso
era l'autunno dell'anno

 



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