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death poetry

eu amo as configurações melodious velhas
diga-me
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
melancolia, azul era
eu não queimo nenhum incense
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
o mais saddest do ano
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
veio fazer exame de me pela mão
como nivelar cai

 



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