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suicide poetry

ich bildete ein Versprechen einmal, eins nur
warum so traurig mein reizendes?
war sie nicht für diesen einzigartigen Geruch
diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
für Wahrheit für Liebe
desolate und einsam
gestern Abend legte der Vollmond ein Tuch von Weiß
ihr schönes Haar
von Song und Traum für überhaupt gegangen
erklären Sie mir
die Berge sind sie leise Völker
gerade jetzt
wenig Park, den ich durch führe

 



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