Wednesday, January 27, 2010

39 Weeks Yellow Egg Dishcharge

of tender light

Bad Genz, "Despair"

of blood and fire is the rose,

wildly tender, if your voice

blooms, fiery dawn.


forbid,

my life was suffering shadow

mystical being without wings, ready to flight

misses and although not quite silent,

regret of the night stopped riding,

unquenchable fraction of time in

extension

a soul.


If you live in me, if your name

words spring winds are born,

each sun of my world fruitful

new smiles the tears of your woods.


pain If you dress me in your nights,

saber keep my hands free

a star.


of tender love light pink nascent

solitude imbued, leave your thirst stranded in me

remote steal my pain

heaven.


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