'Let me write the instance confronting the death and I shall be the happiest man leaving', that's how I feel about writing.And about the Poetry; " His poetry, like your floating clouds of feeling, are but the blue drops of raining thought. To heal those pains of convention and fear; Nothing but the truth and nature to share."
Nothing was beholden. Colony counts were perfect. You were never guaranteed and exit. I am stalked by lips of a black tulip holding a moonbeam. The world moves wearing a shell of emptiness in a cosmos, inviolable. Aggrandizement beyond the
Pull out the pellets from my chest, I had fallen in a brutal crackdown. A black moon was taking revenge. You were staring straight in the eyes of death. The biker, has lost the charisma. The apples were never so
Spurred the kerosene to burn the logistics. I had moved on untrodden snow of tanned gifts. There was no tomorrow for me, living from moment to moment. The warships had moved into positions. Adoring the monotheisn, I still loved many
O Little angel O little angel from tranquil galaxy of rebirth coming through milky sky ways to land on the human earth singing merry Christmas songs with basket of wonderful toys some for her innocent girls and some for naughty