The young man and the zenith sun
and a few things I heard from you;
In the line of fire
Waning sky how you fell
Ethereal stars only out of arms
How my mother caught me
After I told her I was falling
You can remind me
How much you love me
And now enough can I say
I love you so
Not anymore
On fire, on fire
Your limbs too little in my arms
In fire, in fire
In the line of fire
More then a few times I asked for it now
And we close your eyes softly
Trembeling ands pressed quietly
As cooling pads pressed hollowed eyes
Each sweeping down neatly
Weakly, good night, good night
1 comment:
Since there is no author name, or title, I'm guessing you wrote it.. Why? Why have you turned to "poetic essays?"
Post a Comment