Comments about The Limpidus
The Accidental Suicide
The skin has torn and the air presses the outcome inside, a failing attempt
As if to hide an obvious sin, and I
Harbour in me your priceless thoughts, and meekly hold them inside
With the sharpness of sickle, an equivalent of a threat
Whose wooden bars my palms hold, with strength that fear spawns
The fear not of dying but of losing a progeny of you..
The ravines never flinched my calves, i have wings, in my mind, i have wings
I will fly through the ravines; i will glide in this narrowness
Just as i glide past quick in...