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modern poetry

os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
eu ganhei a raça
nós quebramos o vidro cujo vinho sacred
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
era uma beleza nos dias
deus
escuro-eyed
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
eu estou morrendo
de nossos lugares escondidos
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida

 



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