maanantai 8. joulukuuta 2014

Polar night

Wanderer difficulty passing
on the road, the night darkness
not in front of her wheat.
As the twilight time,
around the heart,
purring black yarn soft.
No snow restless,
to mother earth
still remain.
Inside of a storm,
winds rampant,
beach reeds
per visit.
Where is the brightest night
beacon, it is not
day at dusk displayed.

Wanderer soul darkness
crowns, martyr
December. I have inside me
yet I can find, the woman
the laughter of the mouth. I do not break,
just a humble, bend into the
as in March
willow rod for.
Endure more,
than anyone ever
get to know. Large secrets,
part of my heart
silence to hide.

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