Poema

lizor_08

New Member
29 Mayo 2008
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Grief and groan howl the winds,
from Heaven he sprung.
Drear leaks out eyes within,
a Jeremiah dies young.

His childhood was not a source of joy,
honey nor nectar could have drawn.
Yet harmless was the boy,
like newly grass at dawn.

Tinted red cliffs his throne shall be,
in that shadowy sky where I saw a V.