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angel poem

ich schleuderte meine Seele zur Luft wie einem Falkefliegen
erinnern sich Sie
ich wuĂźte nie, daĂź die Masse soviel Gold hatte
Schlaf süß in Ihren humble Gräbern
das Kind, das weg Blatt nach Blatt warf
lassen Sie uns errichten
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben
zwischen den musing Sonnenuntergang und die Dunkelheit
die Dämmerung war apfelgrün
weiĂźe Schaumgummiblume, rote Flammeblume

 



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