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sad death poem

cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
escute
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
receoso não mais, eu digo
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
o que nós fará agora
eu verei uma estrela hoje à noite
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
a escuridão rouba os formulários de todas as rainhas

 



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