autor:: Elendurwen

rubrika:: poezia

Black howlers fly
Under moon and try
To steel me
From no one
There is nothing
No one's crying
And they bind me

Crown of thorns
The children jabbing
Mindless thoughts
A senseless scabbing

Of our world
Make me real
Now try to feel
How I bleed

Come and meet
Yourself out there
Your is the world
Your nightmare

And when
There is silence
Put a little
Bit more violence

Into me
Stay and see
My rotting soul
And the tall
Angels of light
Net of bolts
Trees are falling
The sky scalds

napísanísané:: 16.5.2007

prečítalo:: 1146 ludí