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.