Annoyance In The Garden
I am distaste, I am the watcher of moons,
Cursing mystical realms is my carefulness.
The macabre noise burdens my soul like the care
I give and create for the purpose of annoyance.
I heave a boulder to the edge of the soil
I call my garden of noise and sounds, all birds.
It is a bewailing sound, siren of strong disaster,
Forming a grief in my heart so strongly that
Vivid images make my life unbearable.
Vapours machinate the resonance of the afternoon,
Burning is the soil from the sound of the noise.
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