Oh, the moon should be cautious of
The moon should always glance to k
If i am still here, dressed or nak
With all of my conscious sins and
Witnesses; my eyes could blindly e

Sometimes i feel like
I have done it all
But maybe its not me
Its the silk that’s unwilling
To cover my feet.

many writes poetry now,
many writes about life and they wi
were not alive but when they hears
they run and leave their shoes beh
many writes about love,

Let grieve become incompetent
For all boat should sail on roads,
And mountain should bow to every
Origin of loyalty and success our
Story impose, life is a canal and

I do no not know why they lie,
I do not know why they all loathes
I do not know why they swore to lo
Not all of them, but most of them
—But don’t ever be like them, even

Close your eyes
What do you see?
Light Or darkness
They are as bad as
Each other, too

Deception is a great feeling for
Those who it pleases to lie;
But truth is sacred and the
Continual of all lies.

What horror have the earthly natur
How amuse are the fetish majors or
Mostly are the fault of the epipha
painted walls of idiocy and tears
I will be cautious to fetch the ro

I have spread the sheet to my bed
Now that there is no more experien
Now there is no more poetry, and n
There is nothing new to write abou
Under the sun or far away from bey

if you don’t want to do anything
but reading, read loud
if you don’t want to read and
maybe all you want is to eat,
eat now,