Antediluvian Poem by Daniel Thomason
Antediluvian
Rustling the tulips round the corner of a never-ending pasture,
She's yearning for the grip of his palm as she chokes their buds,
Wielding her locks rightly like the victor's plea in free tourney,
She removes the homeward flower as it gently plunges blood outward,
The gap paleness on her reacts to the wind's scurry by a halt,
She falls to her knees and screams aloud her tears with coughs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 7:56:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
