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death poetry

da me indegno e sconosciuto
una foschia stava guidando giù
all'interno della mia mano tengo
lasci una conservazione di gioia voi
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
la canzone e sogno da per andato mai
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
prima del san bronze solenne
i poets dicono a
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
città che non è una città
siete il mio compagno
stuff della luna

 



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