If she’d said something
I wouldn’t be giving upon her
Any where I would have followed her.
I’d haven’t missed her, only
If I’d not have giving upon her.
I know she’ll not miss even a gleam.
And I’d have bring her ice cream,
If she’d said something.

I would have woven
and spin my life round her,
If she’d said something.
I thought she would
be an epicenter of my life.
But when strop cut, I’d gulped
whole solid salty ****.
And I’ll grow dead -eventually- in evenfall.

Nightfall ought to be peaceful,
but it clutches your way like in gears.
A constant, perpetrated picture
keep your head occupied like a
brook flows with babbling sound.
I stare at the ceiling in the dark,
with same old empty felling in the chest.

A breeze brings with aroma of violet.
I lay on sand of salty water,
tides making growling sound.
I spoke to clear sky.
And I spoke to all.

Good bye - All men die.