Meaning
In every leaf there is a fall.
In every song there is a cry.
In every move there is control.
Control of substance or the will.
Cry of condemned or victor'd ones.
Fall of the tribe of entered sin.
Sign of the times of brut Les’trigons
Will I submit to charge of race,
Once colour blue is up and high,
Sin that's obstructed by Thine sheen,
Les’trigons taught to feast on rye?
Race, human race, bloom out of blush.
High, how high, you deem you go?
Sheen, sheen of day night turns to ash.
Rye, rye is to grow, grow…
Свидетельство о публикации №104101300276
I liked the poem Chaos And Her. but didn`t know what to write)
Once I listened to Nightwish, and I liked their texts. So did I the texts of Him and evanescence. And... THIS English is not perfect but I like it.
Some of your poems are really difficult to read - too many words one can`t understand.
but they are pretty!)
Мина Харкер 08.10.2008 11:53 Заявить о нарушении
Only the best!
Fern 08.10.2008 16:38 Заявить о нарушении