The look is of right work,
The workers move and change
Together and apart.
The wages are fixed according to the effort,
Sentences are big, small as well,
Their tailors stupidly work
And the tools split when words are built.
The tools are a spirit, a well-being, a promise,
I open the doors to a lonely heart,
One of them fights against mine.
His heart and mine actually clash,
Reminding me of a love that died.
Fade into a void for eternity,
By occupying it like a Space.
The hole I question is very solid,
The whole wedding has been solved.
Above are the heavens where we construct our thoughts,
Then falling, we consolidate the learning with refreshment.
Water has flowed, we entice the growth of human structure,
Wasting is a disease, of the self, over a fountain we enjoy.
I find a lamp so hidden
That burning sensations command.
Through the window of mere delight
I thwart the watcher of my nature.
A man must face the truth,
His chief commanded the religion
To be disobeyed, to be objected.
The truth made a knowledge too rare
I benefit him, who killed me,
Yet the puzzle is so complicated
That I benefit him.
My name concentrates on him,
So twist your head in this direction,
With some obedience, without disagreement.
Change this reality if you dare,
If, if you stare and escape this request.
They argue and fight over dead bones,
One of them is a skull making him ill.
There is utter disbelief, just decaying bones
Ready for burial like no other corpse.