Call it
Dusk
And let
It settle
Turn back
Into
Dark black
Metal
The scratching
Thorns
And the
Stinging nettle
Like theft
Was born
With
Precious metal
dO yOu
eVeR
wOnDeR
wHo PaInTed
tHaT pReTtY
pEtAL
nOw gOnE
aRe TheE
wAg0nS
aNd
tHeiR
cOpPeR kEttLe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem