اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
On the mantlepiece
There's a scrap of leather
Like a half-remembered truth or lie
And there's a photograph
Of a Sun-lit garden
And the sword that seemed to burn with light
The way
It's closed now
And I can't go home
The way
It's closed now
And I can't go home
Near the fireplace
Black with soot and sorrow
Then the absence of synecdoche
There's a whetted axe
With a weathered handle
And the weight of it is dear to me
The way
It's closed now
And I can't go home
The way
It's closed now
And I can't go home
What if I
What if I just let go?
If I just let go
