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gothic poetry

glooms der Lebeneichen
ich verachte meine Freunde mehr als Sie
drehen Sie nicht Ihren Kopf
diese Herzen wurden von den menschlichen Freuden und Obacht gesponnen
das kleine mitfühlende, getragen, Lachengesichter
ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
warum dann, Muß wir? sieht
einfach sprechend
wölbte die Flut
die Wiese kroch
über dem Fluß auf dem Hügel
meine Seele geht in den gorgeous Sachen plattiert
obwohl Lieberepine und Grundscheuern

 



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