21 sept 2016, 16:45

Weapon 

  Poesía » Otra
1287 1 3
And all the wars
those eyes of yours
have started,
and all the gore
blown open in the hearts
like grotesque gardens,
by beauty, battle-hardened,
Yes, all of this is lost to words;
none ever cross
the lips of worlds
exhaling in the fallout
following the meltdown.

Искате да прочетете повече?

Присъединете се към нашата общност, за да получите пълен достъп до всички произведения и функции.

© Todos los derechos reservados

Propuestas
: ??:??