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Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
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agonia ![]()
■ Petite fougère ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2011-08-18 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english] |
The gem I dig is not the stone you seek?
Its spendour carries weight you cannot carry? Multiplicated souls can reach a peak Even on mountains rugged, steep and scary. The white I splatter on your face is powder Forgotten in the drawer of your mind… Replace the rotten hinges with a louder Crinkling pearl-bead worn with woman’s pride. The seed I plant resembles eye of vulture, Its gaze misses no angle, spot or nook. Let blossom-bosoms grow into a mulcher, Protector of thy inoffensive look. The glue I use to patch up mirrors, shattered By vacuumed time and space, a barren swell, Lies underneath your skin, a fire, scattered, A duplicated famine I can quell. Let silenced path with melodies be soaking, Atuned be rhythm of the voice unheard, Skies’ softest plumage will redo the cloaking Of once the most majestic, candid bird.
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