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sorry poem

era o outono do ano
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei
estes sejam
eu gosto d
a festa real foi feita
a fragrância veio
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
temos nĂłs nenhum shame?
eu sou o vento que wavers
eu sei o que você está indo dizer
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
qual eu desejo observar
eu nĂŁo posso sempre sentir seu greatness

 



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