deepundergroundpoetry.com
Death of the soul
Love Is out of my reach , an I care not to grasp her.
Agony departs , and I a fallen crow.
Dropped into dirt , I shall ressurect.
The nutrients bury me , love me.
Love is out of my reach , an I care not to grasp her.
Agony departs , and I a fallen crow.
Dropped into dirt , I shall ressurect.
The nutrients bury me , love me.
Love is out of my reach , an I care not to grasp her.
Published 6th Jul 2020
Author's Note
Fly high
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