This is a translated one. this time it was hard.
creates a coldness haven't been there before.
The hitted body smells alcohol
and the face is hidden by a thin cloth.
In his hand rest a broken heart that
in an illusion vacuous pumps blood all over the floor
Sirens lit up the dark along the streets,
they wakes the people up
In the room with a broken window
lays the boy who lost himself,
without breaths and without pulse,
only,
soulless,
dead.
Poetry by Poetry-poofter
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Written on 2008-02-04 at 19:52
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The boy who lost himself
A broken window in a boys' roomcreates a coldness haven't been there before.
The hitted body smells alcohol
and the face is hidden by a thin cloth.
In his hand rest a broken heart that
in an illusion vacuous pumps blood all over the floor
Sirens lit up the dark along the streets,
they wakes the people up
In the room with a broken window
lays the boy who lost himself,
without breaths and without pulse,
only,
soulless,
dead.
Poetry by Poetry-poofter
Read 1024 times
Written on 2008-02-04 at 19:52
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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