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christmas poetry

eu estou morrendo
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
o ar é como uma borboleta
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
era o outono do ano
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
tem um espaço livre, loveliness vento-protegido
esse ano
a algum os deuses gordos
agora quando meus bordos viverem
fraco-é voada a canção

 



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