I guess man had always the idea of Panopticon in...
when s/he created god...

Oh, the tiniest flower!
lost in the vastness...

How life and death
clinging to each other...

In the prison of time
for all the divided hands...

Whiteness in my heart
I roll from the snow fall to...

I‘ve never seen roads
this tearful...

Not love or God
they neither sing...

When the wind
at its hasty ingress...

She was nothing but
a reflection on the tea...

Sometimes I can hear
tempests' wails unfold in words...

One day a chemistry teacher back home in high...
He laughed and said : Also you butt is going to be...

Such inverse efficacy:
Rocks grind...