Whenever I write
a poem, blood oozes out.
Why was I catching the fire?

The desire is to speak
short sentences to convey the
answer to black questions.

Slowly the empathy
works. The beautiful color of red blood
has many meanings. I said you were my blood.

In age of consent,
you want to **** yourself. But
the surveilance will watch.

Pain comes in reverse,
saying goodbye. Was it an animalism?
Your love is in heartbeats.

Whose idea was this?
Tragedy is born daily to whiten the eyes.
Milk turns black to succeed.

This poem is written
by me to humanize the animals,
capturing the heart of god.

This should be taken
as passive love. The thunder
will make a new home for you.

Fascinating. My pain
throws a light. You live your own
life near the tombs. You will never die.

I am searching for the
mistakes in me. The hardening
vision will decide who was the culprit.

You are not living
for the neighbor. I stitch the wounds of
keys and locks of humanity.

How long you will
find the truth. It is on the beach.
Not in the water, not in the sky.

Don't live on me.
Be kind O first god, when a man
breaks, the world changes. I scream.

Let the religion be
redefined. No need of violence.
I feed the ants to get peace.

Sometimes the myth
of love shatters. Immensity must
rise. I am creating mercy.

Encore, faith was
blind, written on the tongue
with a thorn. One awakes the other.

The mysterious pain
was mine, moon watch. The
vespa has a job to do.

The teacher reads the
road. Your step will bleed
unknowingly. Who tells the god?

Will you innovate a
big red spot? What is its name?
******? Will you improve your grammar?

The history has been
wounded. It is still bleeding. Did
you sacrifice a rising moon?

You were not there, where
sun was burning to give the light
to blackened pages of life.