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Apr 2014
I will rub an extract of evil over the papers,
I will dispatch my feelings through the electric wires.
The anger and fear beat the inside of me,
When it is cold
And empty.
My abstract castle is unbreakable,
Inside its tower there is a smell of a wild smoke.
Fairies and mermaids
do not exist here.
Their false ensemble left a deposit
On yellow pages of "News" and "Truth".
Cocoon-rooms, detonator-heads,
And a den of the hungry monster inside you.
Intrigues are weaved by the city,
Their dream is
A blind chase after a dollar.
I am counting the floors of a building,
I am burning this life.
I am spitting on a free ticket
To a world raging in a gray palette.
We continue to stir mirages,
While time aimlessly runs,
While the burning math flies over the petrol canister.
A bitter moment
Will not become sweeter with a handful of coins.
I will go to the darkness,
Which is inside me,
To experience light.
Astrotourist Al
Written by
Astrotourist Al  London
   --- and Mary
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