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sad death poem

ich erwarte Sie
unter dem Helm des Warriors
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
Töchter der Zeit
den brennenden Gedanken kleiden
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
wenn der Wind gegen uns in der Dunkelheit arbeitet
allein
fĂĽr dann auĂźen
in der LageSEIN, jede Seite jeder Frage zu sehen
warum die Sachen sind, die keinen Tod haben
durch das Ufer durch das Meer
Meister der menschlichen Schicksale sind ich
und breakethbrot nicht mehr

 



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