I am scared.
You are becoming human...
Home coming
was not true. A character...
Street lamps burn the night away as moths fly...
The wistful air in dance and play, trailing...
Will you break the
golden triangle, one day...
Sitting on a white
rose, the miniature god...
I am, because
you are not there...
the cold blue water curves,
turning into giant waves...
At life closing,
were you in peace...
Your theme will
not endure the momentous...
Do not unveil the
wound of errors...
Cannot undo, the
headless leap of faith...
Mauve detachment;
I wanted a short placenta...