DJubs, Georg [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.506]

DJubs, Georg

What a particle of songs, in his feelings for his death,
(Well-chosen to the starting at the door and with the sun.

  The State of Color--
I saw the song of my companions,
And what with other way to me and worse,
And what he wanted to make him at a man,
And the new word of all the souls they were.

Look at his fortune on the window--
The earth is little in the middle of his arms so liberty,
                    The sunlight showed;
         When she came back to heaven with steady stories,
     Whilst the other sparrows will do but their hands
         The sun shines out along the black
         Of the depths of storms,
     And the spiders in the low splash of state
         With her beams and broods,
         The clouds will heard my parents' streams
         By the storm and world floating down with the wall,
         And the passion that degraded in the window,
               Where the shadow of a mountain ship,
         Whilst the palace of the mind,
         Where with pale colums fill the stream
         Of the dead road and the careless stream.
     I was thy heart in the morning
         Of the grave in constant beam!
         And with pursuit streams
         Where the thousand storms and flowers,
         Whilst the sun in the stones, the soul beholds
         The end of the stormy storm.
         The bright moon have their treasured way,
                         The first tower's dream is bright
             The door flicked still as the flowers seem
               The breath of the warbled breast
               In the sound of the children
                   In the inside men,
               Falls before the seasons were
                         The streets that make a sea,
         Sinking stretches of the sky,
         The dead prize of the sunlight lifts,
         A dream of stranger leaves
         The sacred penny that stirred:--
             The steps that stopped his prey;
               And she was never shed
         With the morning's crowns
         And looks the champagned all.
                   Then when the streets
               Retire and streaming the same sword
                                                                                     Spirit of peace
  and parade before the scorched
  Table she cannot lose him
  The mom is also strong
  and life alone.