Cascades of thunder,
The world down under.
Lust transparant purple,
An 8, is two circles.
Why do we care for the dying,
And not the children crying.
I walk this world, i sometimes do not understand.
My soul drifts,
As dunes of sand.
I wear no specific brand.
My mind in fire,
My brain expired
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem