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Vet att metern faller överallt, men... ändå.


Sonnet to my burnt-out heart.

Dead like a flower in fall is my heart,
as Darkness broke into and froze my mind.
It died as the Cold Wind fought dreams apart,
feelings were lost and are not yet to find.

The bloodcovered walls of my eyes are but blank;
from seeing too much of what\'s not there to see.
My lips with which from life I gladly drank,
dried out and locked inside the will in me.

If there were drops of Gold in Pouring Rain,
had Freedom eased the screams of Darkness made;
the screams of which my heart died out in pain,
of Which my body on my deathbed laid.

But chained is Sorrow of my burnt out heart,
as the Cold Wind approached, tore my soul apart.




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Läst 681 gånger
Publicerad 2006-03-13 17:38



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