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gothic poetry

meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
um olhar é mas um raio
as montanhas são povos silenciosos
quem é o corredor nos céus
a lua levantando-se escondeu as estrelas
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
pensamentos através de minha cabeça

 



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