Do you remember
in cold winters...

When a poet chants
a songster is ensnared...

Would a soldier abandon his post
in his grinding fatigue...

So much passion altering from feeling to...
measuring the seas with the concavities of rugged...

Imperfection is
the prove of perfection...

First the space
was an assumption...

Sparrows are benign,
their textures are so fine...

Corroding in sinews,
blooming in soul...

Speechless is the word.
Poetry is too loud...

Speechless is the word.
Poetry is too loud...

Time is spiral yet
without a history it's...

The nightmare
is that nobody is out there...