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christian poetry

mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
las montañas son gente silenciosa
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
un pájaro cantó
ella puede ser que lo haya sabido en el resorte anterior
he tenido un miedo en mi vida
a lo largo de una orilla
splendor dulce
por el puente grosero
no me quemo ningĂşn incienso
la música i oído con usted era más que música
expresemos nuestras pasiones más bajas
hay tres maneras de las cuales los hombres toman

 



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