They grieve their loved ones
to death then are the loudest...
Everything is for acting
I am an entertainer...
The Scream (1893) by Edvard Munch
He realized there...
Corroding in sinews,
blooming in soul...
Life is a line, curve, something of a design
in a crystal ball...
Silence unites everything.
Silence means all the differences are particles...
To offer freedom
they advanced with an extra...
Time is the missing
perfection ticking to sew...
a foot hands
the armless man...
his fan blows
the artist...
the hammer
nailed the toe...
my mirror
mirrors me...