Archery, treachery and deceit
The legend of the past...
How could you enjoy this demented scene,
Fading colors, shaded with puke green...
Bitter
Walking through the valley...
Dreams
are falling...
I reel in a scent of brine,
for a spell of time, and time again...
Every time I go out at night
I look up at the sky above...
Though I cannot even call you friend,
I have read your words time and again...
We wait with them here,
in a spacious home...
Words and letters
Stacked upon each other...
You threw your words like little
Knives...
The physical world is an insult
to the human soul...
Time devours without malice,
that is its ruthlessness...