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narrative poetry

passato inesorabile di thou
tre anni fa oggi
alti pareti ed enorme
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
un pensiero dolce solenne
ho entrato nel deserto perché la mia anima è athirst
conosco non dove
il dolce con il fern ed è aumentato
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
l'aria è piena l'alba del e la molla
amo rubare per un po'via
che probabilità spiteful ruba i unawares

 



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