I'm fully recovered into a limelight Idol,
I chase wind and the winter sloping hill of the universe.
I wear shoes, shoes don't wear me. In my silence, I silence the noising world around me.

I'm cooler than Ice, average short, I'm not made to see many but few around are not equal to the proportion of the sea above the mountains. I save myself to be saved in matter of judgement. Nothing more, nothing less.

Now that you're late,
Seeing you with your drifting tongue sitting barely on your silent body, eyes no longer a rolling model,
The Armon have stiffened the ears,
In the night of this afternoon, we have seen a white-dark lane of empty world travelling on the realms of the sea-side; we embrace the hours, though with hatred.


Now that you're late,
Moments of days open the hours of memory,
Duration of time reads the Colon of agony,
The wind briefly summons the sounds in harmony.......
We are in the middle of what had been and what's to be;
What's to be, though the Ocean of unknown truth never spell out the pen of life where others miscellaneous are in shape to nag.


Now That You Are Late,

On the 20th applause, much more is left for synagogue.
The nilecoleon mumbled in erosionic pattern, thus, you're late:
Far off from this trip and stepped on this unsuccessful hours,
May we praise the gods for the meaning;
But, when the twilight of the darkness invaded, the gods does not cherish the minutes,
As birds fly pass the limits,
We all loan out our soul to cry sing in unit.......

Our thoughts congeal our seeds of reasons to think when rings of noon are blushing of needy......!

And Though You're Late!
On the journey that you have embarked on, never you drop by nor look back, shake the dust off your feet and match on......
Here, we shall not cease crushing on each others amid the devil's resistance to live.

You might, as your notion of little knowledge and wisdom gives you play the game,
But I, for one play the truth.
Given out wasn't a crime,
Given in wasn't a crime too as all pends on the condition of puppetry label as a Fool cheating the wise.

There is love in sharing, sharing it with a free mind without the involvement of brain circuit, but it's hard to bale out the lies
I have seen it in the sponge in your your eyes,
Sense it through the shrine in your heart,
Your stingy flesh ignored me a trillion miles away
While your delicious tales is sweet and softer than the honey bee to safety; and the bitter is your look, Is as though as usual!

I can't believe the snudges of my eyes while standing on this fimbriated extremity watching her noble itchy impression effect surreptitiously on my possession,

I beseech you, don't change the motion,
Here I am, in a snidging fitted being to propose the motion
To my final moderator, Is as though as usual!

Meditating in this shrine of patience, amid the precipitation that's befalling on,
My stream of consciousness is heavily exist to know of the scamming mode of saying'Hi'to love!

I pardon the pain;
Because, I'm the first reason to smile and the details of my being, distraction is optional;

I'm stepping successful on this earthly path, ignoring the all side signal;
I didn't invite any comer to be part of my glad and sad shore, hence liability survive on heavenly grace;

I am the Prince in the pitch , price to pay in peace
Part in a ***,
Piling pin particularly posted in position not of peasant farmer;

I'm the centre of my excitement, the book in my brain, pages were open for me to read in my daily life;
I'm the circle in my noont-tag, always crushing on a Moonflower....
I'm the sun in the utmost angles of the earth, gently rising to glitter the part of the whole.....

Indeed, in the entire scenario, there no constituents travel. Even in the three clan of time-the neen and the noon comes the morning first of early guest.

Human hatches on human,
The soil must yields in our trip to existence, hence we move into the growth towards the portal.

I'm the world most admirer that waded through mother's bleed, with much showers of pain, the infant icy breeze bawling to commemorate the children of the universe and the nature astounded me with with too much greed.
On this trip, we will succumb,
A trip nine-ten eons synonymous to death, breed of pain.....

The riddles can't stop the hecter!
Fire flame in every enchantment,
Is my own exceptional? Here I am in the military check point. My corticosteroids, my curriculum vitae have been approved YES Bro you're good in the game.

But, one more thing, an I'd that has a dot of bleed;

Oh Heaven I beseech to bend and listen to this

Again and again, my soul splits with angers when I heard that Orlayinker's time is not possible!
Again and again, my soul worship the loneliness of the breeze!
Birds flying skips the tea trees
Breeze moves swiftly on the sea-side leaving the dust,
Here alone sitting on the frigid zone, the cloud full with dewy eyed not longer strabismic by the string drum of the drums, dance of the dances and song of songs

Mighty men mountain the top and leave the world to darkness and to me.
How can we cope with the corrupted whistle? "If it's possible, pause the game and let's all watch the V. A. R. of our lives. You're the originator of the ethnic time, the coordinator of the religion game, forbidden the gay in all time may......."
I embrace bitterness when time flings me to the sour forest of the earth.

Isn't it world enough and time to tell that this reading of the last minutes splits my soul and mind....?
Crawling on its feets to rise,
Gnashing on its teeth to raise,
The un-step foot became stepped, harbouring around the Sahara desert of open Heaven and he'll.

The breeze beckons the trees to stand still,
The wind hummed slowly silently in unison;
And here the chemistry, and flesh, in God's wisdom unfold that we live to leave....!

The twinkling of the Stars,  the cloud and the crying of a nightingale are both meaningful in the silent day!
The grace that took us together seems falling, and the strength is no more;
The Love that chained us together seems lost and the hug is no more. We all travelling an unlawful trip and time consuming often time in often hours.


Where is the road that leads my way?
Where is the bridge that leads across the Niles? For my day today have embittered with interlace wet of nature's spit. Breathing in a maniac struggle of soul, invisibly transfigure without pressure the strength left her alone descended beneath the lower layer of the universe taken dominion of realm shadows of darken emblem and thus, the realm conceived the ghost-child with no words to utter.

Who else knew?


Buried with anger that was in her and the hidden things which uttered not, here she became a guest in the other corner of the universe during the sudden Shaft of the moonlight when the breeze speaks the air of the morning dew.

While the dust moves, behold she cried out for help on which way to be led ere her serading steps gently hurl her soul in the shading shrine of mourning.

The heart set in a blue-shape,
The duration lost its Harmony and pitch, the hectic street drifting back home to where it belong.

Of all what she had laboured for couldn't go along, as it is in contrast with the pitch and harmony. The infant baby crying of uncaring. Alas it's Mother, its Mother sudden exit sentence the acolyte to slumber.
"Good night! I mean, good bye or bad bye my baby. It wasn't my fault I left you this way. Perhaps, I have wrong the world. However, time to tell is same as one time to know. Between us I hope there's a Carven of silence begging to be part by the sadden sound of sorry falling from my lips, while a glass wall devouring rage and hurt hurled from my throat as you lying still with a  frown on your face...!