Saturday, September 15, 2012


My body being exhausted from battle
Both unnecessary and rather inglorious
Could reverse my story
And it firmly entrench this razor
The court every day slashes more
The body image in such a melancholy,
And none of what I bring to memory
Yet even worth anything.
I am nothing and nothing this reproduce
A step towards the end, crude and confused,
Only old fret complexion filthy,
Listening always denial, old answer
The face indeed already decomposed
Death finally blessed me floods...


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