Had cell phone been,
In Shakespeare's age;
Would there have been,
Deaths in tragedy's page?
...
Soul Burns..
I smell the smell,
Of my burning soul.
The anonymous spirit,
...
I was walking lone there,
Where we once had been.
I sought the house we lived in,
In the lush lush green.
...
I can't get
every word,
you write with my blood.
It flies above my head.
...
The mutilated body and
The smell of blood can
Give you pleasure,
As you are taught, so
...
My days go with haste.
Like the wind, time
sweeps my hours.
My fatigued legs,
...
Am I running from me,
Or, someone I don't want to see?
When, I was far, I wanted to be near.
But, coming near, I discovered a fear,
...
Night makes us
what we are not...
Night excites our
junk thought.
...
The hill can not be seen
And the trees are shivering
For the North Wind blows hard
Thru their leaves.
...