deepundergroundpoetry.com
the balm
I offer you my being
you give me back some guilt.
A mental fairy story
Willingly rebuilt.
The prince is late already
the kingdom now is lost.
Despair has conquered it
And crown is a thorn,
that pierces my being
that curses my guilt
and balm on my sorrow:
my pupils when they shrink.
you give me back some guilt.
A mental fairy story
Willingly rebuilt.
The prince is late already
the kingdom now is lost.
Despair has conquered it
And crown is a thorn,
that pierces my being
that curses my guilt
and balm on my sorrow:
my pupils when they shrink.
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