Contactez-nous

• Artiste: Featherweight
• Titre: Black Elk
Assurez-vous que les corrections sont tout à fait exactes
S'il vous plaît, les mettez en évidence en quelque sorte!
Vous pouvez, par exemple, écrire
INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
Roses sang weeds answered through it all you kept your stamina though you kept stark through the storm I saw you wilt- In a pure unselfish sacrifice, you clipped your own wings When an eagle falls the sum of the sky shakes And upon his impact the entire earth quakes The spirit of the pheonix is well alive Only through you, it survived Why is it that: the thought of the end pinches us and in a startled stupor we check our ripeness, as if the juices squeezed would pour onto the floor at any moment. we entertain the game that we must- somehow- guard and collect them with our gourds as if each drop can not be absorbed by the soil. such time we spend in this frantic feat that the seeds never take and the moisture never creeps to the dirt remember: we’ll collapse. and spill the chalice of our fruited life caught only to become a fruitless toil. Why then do we not, let the pulp drop. Bend down and build a mound, so a new tree will sprout or erupt.