Very damp under the trees
Quite poisonous against the spirits
We see scary signs about the virgin
Be transparent. The devil was good
So musty on the mud
We violate dull feet before the ground
We Reach! The birth is going
Very damp under the trees
We speak to heavy demons beside the fire
Atone! The vision is coming
wavering unseeing
lost in broad daylight
a backward glance
In whose eyes
the sailor
wander aimlessly
wondering why
YOU ARE READING
If it not be Poetry!
Poetry"Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from th...
