Residue Of Moist Poem by Antonio Liao
Residue Of Moist
sharpen the wound
and thou the pain never win, and
let the worm
touches the pain of joy
than to taste the sweat lullaby
of grain
I come to settle the hour
of the
day, holding even the night to come
an ought to remember
that life to
quest of nothing worth to joy
thirst capture my lips,
too powerful
that reaches my tongue as it goes
beyond the rain that
cool
I am over...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/26/2024 8:24:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A great poem, like it.