Sunday, September 16, 2012



Run by the vain need
The time is perceived villainy
And when plunging excuse hedge
The storm indeed degrade us
And this generates terror with anxiety
Where peace ever conceived alive
And all that is certainly gets
No traces but pain and falsehood.
Erroneous days, I wander without direction
And everything was lost in hunger and boredom,
Knowing some remedy so far
Even of life now doubt
Comment demonic I predict,
Marking each note of a desire
Tracing sewage in clumsy poetry ...


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