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On every single moment,a moment dies and another buried it
In every open day, twilight dies and offsprings cave it body from the mayhem of it compatriot
Water burn and make a born
And flames reincarnate blaze
There was once a discombobulation of light within a live somehow and somewhere prior
The life that visited a war in which death was the guest of honour
Wailing, the guest speaker
Ghoul, the high table holders
&
Fiend, the master of the ceremony
The life, once built in a palace
Maybe palace of broken skin
kingdom of scattered voices
Den of different littered marrows of bones
Or
Casino that was cited for smoking of blood
In this time and palace was where I was coughed to make a space
To write a life pure of gleaming thought
That was never born or shadowed out, even maybe in a moment of fainted view
Father told me to see the world from my inner image, without giving me the exerting control for it
Mama gave the map without checking back on my route
Forgetting life is ambiguous
And
It can be a vitiate
On a several reminiscence
Was I, just as a flesh with sour control
In which Mama and Papa hold different remote
And making a different spontaneous function
For they say, they make and can flagellate lives I keep beneath my data card
I pray for den survivor
Not knowing it’s a whale that swallow hooks
And a lion that shudder the jungle
And this days I curse it existence
I throw away those moment like a nylon with copious faeces
And buried the hut like a infant body
For i want no record of a live designed after a lost lucrative wind again
That pierces me when day sleep
But a noble and venerable mission of glistening image pasted on my heart.
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