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Jules
Published Jan 10, 2025
Updated Jan 10, 2025
Poetry and Songs
1 min
Poetry and Songs
Published Jan 10, 2025
Updated Jan 10, 2025
1 min
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86 readings
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Jules
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L’observant de ma tour,
Il est allongé, brisé.
Aurait-il besoin d'amour,
Ce pauvre homme éreinté.
Suffocant de l’obscure nuit,
Tiendra-t-il l’hiver sans fourrure.
Le froid assassin rôde en ennemi,
Torturant l’homme collé au mur.
Eux, affamés sinistres vautours,
Attends la sombre infamie.
Qu’il expire un souffle sourd,
Mortel supplice de milliers de vies.
Des larmes s’écoulent de mes yeux,
Jules, serait peut-être mon ami.
Pourquoi je ne l'avais pas vu, malheureux,
Moi, triste âme renfermée dans ces
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