Strange poets meet strange dreams.
Nothing is what it seems.
And as I fall,
And as I crawl,
Beneath me is nothing at all.
Ripped and forgotten, without words,
I live here, in between worlds.
And if I never,
If I ever,
Be born underneath the waver…

Lasă un răspuns

Acest site folosește Akismet pentru a reduce spamul. Află cum sunt procesate datele comentariilor tale.