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gothic poetry

sie fragen mich, wo ich gewesen bin
der Himmel
jetzt fĂĽr einen lebhaften und freundlichen Kampf
da ich der Richtung des Todes geglaubt habe
desolate und einsam
machen Sie sich nicht um das unsichtbare Sorgen
sie sprengte fierce Wein
das Kind, das weg Blatt nach Blatt warf
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nĂĽchtern
letzter Mitternacht
ich bin in der Liebe mit hohen far-seeing Plätzen
sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
rĂĽhren Sie sich

 



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