Sunday, August 31, 2014

poem to my death



oh, yes, have you come?
what good you’re not late
let me touch your clothes
the mine, let I give you them

wear me with your mantle now
hold me for all my life
this world within or out
makes me hurts and cries

this conscientious I have
i do so many bizarre things
makes the pain hurts my head
and we die as we’re living

so, come, darkness
once for all blind my eyes
my soul is a tempestive mess
that blows for my dying

come, darkness
put my face on the ground
take me to the destiny’s rest
which for all is here around

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