There is something in your eyes
That sharpen melancholy,
eating the space of my meditation
Murdering the curtains in my consciousness .

I feel like a whole existence
When I listen to the sound of the wind
that carries your smell ,
Dream dawn
Of the question about the core of everything ,
Attached her unconscious to mine
To bring the answer
From the grave of truth .
I am an imagination land to her silence
A dark secret that she will discover on the next autumn ,
My subcontractor knows whom their insides are the waves of rain ,
Draw the dead sky
Drop of blood on the body of doves ,
I am your pain
And you are my prison
The pain is infinite and eternal
And the prison too .
Collect all your life tears
All your shadows on the ****** paper
All the skies in your head
All your Philosophical non-Sense in your inside
And come to the total metaphor
To me
The only unknown that is visible .
There is conspiracy now
Among my characters
Someone I called yeti
said  : go to her and unveil your dreams about cellar of creation
and your whole
She already carries the dust of dead god ,
Someone else he came always to my dreams
Said to me
Watch what you feel
your existence lineage to your labyrinth of feeling ,
She will go in your folds
In your despair texture
In your construction of birth from nothingness
Take your wounded destruction
To the wind she created ,
Take your ruins of absolute .
I didn't find in the end of any feeling or idea
Except non
Even the idea of non ,
I didn't pray before commit suicide   ,
I didn't follow my mind and arrived to any fact ,
I won't count my sighs now
Because you blow in my troubled thinking .
The beauty of things makes me sad
Because it tells me often that the resurrection of dark
Will **** everything
Even my non selected  feelings to you  .
I catch madness, poetry ,crime , emptiness,and   you
in the wallet of death
in the body of mirage ,
I will die with my wrath on poetry although
  it gave me time to think to be .