A mediocre
You're enjoying I'm creating Neither hundred percent Nor the hundredth of whole Only like a mediocre of You and me. As long as I'm writing My poem bridges the gap Even though a single Atom of us.
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I can't level myself with words, it is what I do everyday that defines me, complicated but simple
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Perversity
Who killed the birds of joy
Through the swords
To escape the truth
Hidden against the flickers,
Miracle would lay
The destiny' young ones.
Let him go over the heights
From a fissure in earth wall,
The muse is for flowers of cactus
In the end of year, after December
To suck the venomous red color
Swirling into veins.
Through the swords
To escape the truth
Hidden against the flickers,
Miracle would lay
The destiny' young ones.
Let him go over the heights
From a fissure in earth wall,
The muse is for flowers of cactus
In the end of year, after December
To suck the venomous red color
Swirling into veins.
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