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daughter poem

alcuni dei hurts che avete curato
faccialo rotare giů dal prato
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
non brucio incenso
splendido e terribile il vostro amore
dove io trovili
provato nel glimmer nei vostri occhi
scuro-eyed
il cielo
addolorisi non per l'invisibile
il piů triste dell'anno
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
ho detto, io ho chiuso il mio cuore

 



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