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sad love poem

wenn der rote Slayer denken, slays er
die hypocritic Tage
wenn Nacht entlang den Straßen der Stadt treibt
unter einem ausgebreiteten Kastaniebaum
mit den meek, braunen Augen
mit dem Sonnenuntergang
der Schnee whispers über mich
in seinem vorsichtigen Zelt
ich wundere manchmal, mich wenn es wirklich zutreffend ist
truely
ich liebe meine Stunde des Winds und des Lichtes

 



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