Plein de choses à dire, plein d’excuses pour ne pas le faire
The night has fallen.
Suns died.
The knight has fallen.
Sons cried.
All around the smell of standing still for lives that never came.
Only dust the herald of hollow memories.
Fell
This entry was posted on 28/10/2006 (Saturday) at 12:08 am and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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© swan_pr 2010.
© swan_pr 2010.