An orchid leaves its scent, characters will not bend, Roads always diverge, around a tree love struggles, Another scene made of clay, hot, colder, next day. Seated at on old stairway en...

The void cannot be full of blood Arms and hands, legs and heads. The head is full of electric storm… We wish our foes to be beheaded. Colours fill the extensive world o…

I rather not smoke for obvious rea… One’s change in response of eviden… And the rat goes insensate underwa… With the nerves flourishing at nig… The vision fierce with expression…

Somethings perceived you when you… Fact only reverberating in you so… To see the young girls of Maria M… Why don’t know from who are writin… But that Xangô says it is an impo…

A touch of blood to the head. A corps in inverted position. Attraction, ended communication, All her remains analyzed, Not a given supposition.

We aspire, leave, walk, and run, And yet, some feel like drowning. Return an assumed impossibility . Road runs asunder under our feet, The devil’s beneath in synchronici…

Tea is warmness made by folks to p… But no leafs stand in my hot water Only the transparency of invisible… Stares back at me receiving no rep… No tea has been kept in the worn k…

The line of death humans has augme… We dying and dying since we were b… A long long tree, an extensive lin… Now we can live more proximally Since the advent of all pixels, di…

To wash away this pain, carry out… Don’t come in vain, I am being mercilessly slain But that’s OK, As explicitly was shown, they may.

There’s a blackboard behind a drea… Full of equations as developments Full of math of how to renew a str… There’s a need to maintain our nat… Which one can clearly see if you l…

Near the end of others are us In our saddle of distance or proxi… Near the vain end of animals we co… And continue to another rationaliz… Confrontation!

Eighteen years of waiting This damned sixth sense Could not prevent The discomfort you meant All those who came before

All of my Sorrows renewed Into unwanted tomorrows From the ashes of dream and desire Into little nothings of rage, emot… How small and insignificant our au…