There it is, I will come along indirectly,
aloft in the mind bearing each scar.
No one, now dead left behind.
Lost then found the first to be burried.
Alive inside the line in the sand,
covered faintly in oil where one or more may have lain.
Which side of the moon when looking up is buried.
The young delisious often miserable spread open cuts.
Where the wet tounge opens through the lips, whisper the ear.
It is easy to be squeezed open never hurt.
Amateur with the heart of longingly, tender it is asking,
again I must turn to ask, the bee.
While I am being young looking good entirely, it is created aknew.
After taking a bath these with great minds, there is no clear guilt.
Still it supports the green cup which shines faintly.
Compilation of the planets revolution.
Despotic monarch,
hello over here in our prisons some with no order to obtain control,
over you persever carry on then endeavor.
Little big man in coming once more the darkness.
However the over the counter empty container,
did balance as before, that didn' t he said cover the scar.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem