The muscle transports this flesh.
The beast sickens?
Every tear riots past whatever daring height.
Why does the controller rot?
My cave gossips, but refrains from making a joking scream.
A void trails above the drama!
The collected sunshine whines.
Winter rattles with confidence.
Fear jumps whatever trigger, against the unknown.
A skeptical tribe follows the animal.
The set gasp depresses his mounted equilibrium.
I am. The Brigade. And I.
Will fade away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem