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re Apr 2017
the sky turns grey
and then the patters
softly fall down
dampen my clothe
it feels so cold

stand between the unvailing decisions
stare at the old fool
cry for the unsure
stuck in this skittish

i know i should run
furthermost
unchain my soul
but
should i let this cracky heart
just fall onto miserable surface?
re Apr 2017
as the night started to glimmer
and i was sitting at the balcony
curiously seeing a city of madness
wondering the tragical tragedy
that could happen for thrice

my eyes could barely see
a rhythm that keep spinning around
on the sightly stars

my soul was trying to reach out hardly
but still trapped in this seductive frame
words by words were running through my teeth
on this peculiar night of nights

then the fact that i smiled
even wider
meant to the blissfulness
upon this endless grief
re Mar 2017
you
3 well-turned letters
makes my tongue bitten
by my own encomiast teeth

— The End —