A Story Poem by Beyza Dut

Within the slopes above, stairs higher
Heavy dirty hands starring to their castles

Swords about to upper

Ive told them not only kill my story
Which has already killed me
so tasty allied others
but others cant kill me

My story has already killed me and then insufflated me.

Which they didnt know when their hands got me and told catch u!
Under the castle and end of the pecks
Damn chubby fingers can never do the shoot Ive wanted to point out
no matter when I had a story
which has killed the shoot in me

And then insufflated me.

They got the all they wanted
And here and now my legs excreted and changing my walk
Winner flats behind me I see them half-mast barely
By the means of my story

What they cant know in their lifetimes
in their premediated murder they can not do all only
my soldier story did that beautifully

And didnt you somebody tell them that story have killed me
And now its insufflating me