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inspirational poem

Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
der Himmel
sie in der Schwärzungsversammlung und bitten
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
es gibt eine Stadt, builded durch keine Hand
drehen Sie nicht Ihren Kopf
lassen Sie das reizende Wortunsaid
seien Sie nicht falsch
irgendwo las ich eine merkwürdige, alte, rostige Geschichte
ich liebe die alten melodious Lagen

 



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