How difficult it was to
remain a simple truth...

Step aside.
Tension of mining gold...

Metamorphosis comes first,
said the path...

A weird solatium
was offered by putting...

In black midnight,
the white moon, like a nun...

Milk thistle cheated me.
There was no incarnation...

I trace the path of murder, reclaiming
the blood stains...

It was an explicit "I"?
deeply flawed...

You have kept the
script? to age in dark...

Noway, I will ask
the poem, to become stressed out...

The dark side of moon
simmers. There was an outbreak...

Out of nowhere,
a miracle takes place...