What The Dervishes Reveal Of The Voice Of God In The Forest Poem by Cristobal Benjumea

Democracy, cherishe child of the blue ray, has its victims
the ignorant

the black holes of war heroes, measurelessto humans

is but a ray of the gods sceptre,

umutable purifying scientific answer, cleaning, so the riddle of history can intrancingly guide us to the human race and its embers

the diamond path to the face of,

to the

can i see destinations or concetration the distilation of our dreams poured on a world that depends on greed in order to function its extacy,

Not imagination and the many jewels inside you, the saphires, the rubies, the topazes, enigmas of extacy.

when you reveal yourself in the club to the ancient actores from forgoten theatre demons swinging silversabres in the universe, i

ii mee, ride in a spaceship the very latest fashion, and hold the banner, you grab me, baby puppie from hell

falling through the blue sky

i relax on the sofer a moment and another glance, encounter with her

the scientific aproach to love, ansuer to antique vows

but the riddle has a code from the feeling encapsulated

you love my passion, you make corners for me to disclose myself spine to u, pluck your tree

your happy your passion floweth and cmpels to compound moving clouds.

that pour on your garden


its was good, but just a klenex