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child poem

short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
deixe o unsaid encantador das palavras
algum queixou-se ao mestre
você ouve a chuva?
porque assim sad meu encantador?
eu ganhei a raça
quando o véu dos olhos for levantado
e pão do breaketh mais
filhas do tempo
quando eu retornei no por do sol
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
os corredores de mármore resounding longos

 



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