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dark poetry

meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
ein Nebel fuhr unten
Farbtöne der Nacht fielen schnell
plötzlich aus den dunklen und belaubten Weisen heraus
was wir jetzt tut
folglich kann ich nicht
ich kann nicht seinem greatness immer glauben
Sitzen in seinem Schalthebel, der Ihren Tee wartet
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages

 



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