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sad poetry

warum dann, Muß wir? sieht
wir brechen das Glas dessen sacred Wein
wölbte die Flut
es gibt eine Stunde des ruhigen Restes
möglicherweise
Stern-Staub und vaporous Licht
ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
das Emporheben, als der Wind brannte durch
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
singen Sie wieder dem Song Sie gesungen
einige der Hurts, die Sie kuriert haben
Tochter, thoukunst kommen zu sterben

 



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