While I limp,
a schizo runs parallel with the moon...

It was a turf war.
The moon was booby-trapped...

Like runaway water
you run to meet your lover...

Knife for knife.
Shadows were chasing...

The flames had
not reached the sun. Moon...

The depression,
in purple moon...

The dust blends with
the humid specks...

The single purple moon
was cruising non-chalantly...

Disconnecting tragedy
you live again...

Under siege,
tied to a bomb...

You should have asked me.
Why was it not important...

After reaching, near-
the crumbling wall, you...