My Breath is earthly strong
And if you kiss my cold clay lips
Your Days they wont be long
How often 'yond the grave sweet heart
Where we were wont to walk
The fairest flower that i e'er sown has withered to a stalk
when will we meet again sweet heart? ,When will we meet again?
when the autumn leaves that fall from the trees are green and spring up again.
YOU ARE READING
pain poetry
PuisiIts my life story documented in small words,its nothing but an endless siege of depression and sorrow.
