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type of poetry

entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
têm você andar visto através da vila
apenas agora
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
não gire sua cabeça
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
sad são que sabem não o amor
uma tempestade está montando na maré
gloom
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
tempestade
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada

 



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