The Cost Of My Poverty Şiiri - Buse Güngör

Buse Güngör
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The Cost Of My Poverty

It's all pure,my hands pray me
But I'm far
And I want shubbling sundown
Because the birth of sun
With death
Single prayer in my hands
Could have been with
And in my sunshine with my clean razors in my hands
İf I can pray with my pure soul
No need to go around the World
No,this is an infinite workfone
Sunrice in my hands
A prayer is born everyday
Mir playing grass in their mystical hands,because they are so bright!
Strikes must be made to avoid the sunset
New and large chain and crawler in the sky
And now revolution!
The sunset should not sink,it should not sink.

Buse Güngör
Kayıt Tarihi : 5.7.2019 17:44:00
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