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narrative poetry

wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
es gibt Gewinne für alle unsere Verluste
mit dem Sonnenuntergang
in Ihrem Flug
dunkelstes, merkwürdigstes Geheimnis
wie ich innen roofed liege, innen aussortiert
diese sind
was ich Ihnen verdanken
als weiße Kerze
herauf von den Süden am Bruch des Tages
ich bot sie aller Abschied
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes

 



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