Unfinished ...!
Still sighing,
Flies in the blue color bone,
In the embrace of disobedient water mud,
Your touch touches the ground in my room ...
Tired wet crow's chest,
When Maya was born,
I swear, however,
Shade like a shadow,
The waiting shackles ..
The sky is stupid, so wet green,
The city of extremes is my city,
The mother is the field of crops,
The father is a dove farm ..!
Helpless bed, tidy clay,
Random just skull shelf,
Fingers crossed, yet feeling,
Maya in the sheet, in the caress of the touch,
In the cultivation of brick and stone buildings,
Funeral on body ..!
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