She calls me;
in the voice of her own
she whispers;
the catastrophic tales,
...
my darkglasses are broken
i used to wear them in the dark
now my eyes are swollen
i could not see much far;
...
o'! the dead one, could you live again?
to see on my wry face, that grin again
to let me forget all the bitter thoughts
to clear my vision, could you live again?
...
i slept, i saw what i can't see
under a tree of immortal fruits
the great fairy godmother,
penetrating ultimate glee in me
...
when the death breaches
the walls of flesh;
the blood gushes
through the veins
...
On the far bank of the river
A small lantern hangs in the dark
A small halo hovers around it
And rest of the night mourns,
...
Though the jester is sad
his lips are curled downwards
and he paints on his face;
a smile;
...
Oh dearie, i mashed up the ant
it would surely avenge when i'm in the grave
by ripping my organic flesh off the bones
...
Let demise be your passion
Some day you'd repent over it
Think, when one of your kinsmen says
'I'd better die than being your kin'
...
when i walk down the street
i feel the pain in my feet
the pain of the misery, the regret
of the wounds that always bled
...