Love we’ll die, too very soon
therefore let’s be as if we were
dead. The colourful bird sits
in the briar and sings to us
of melancholy, till the end
she perishes too as we do
cut by the train. Oh, woe,
oh, woe, oh, woe Electra.
PLEASE DONATE BY FOLLOWING THIS LINK revolut.me/liviubojm0
No comments:
Post a Comment