when writers love themselves
more than their work
disgusting

let their works
speak for the authors
they must be still.

the first time I kissed you
Unable to see devils
                        cheaters
                        A­lso, the murderers
how much
        pure and
        humble
                      No sleepless nights
since then,
or rather the world,
I became a demon of jealousy
                Night became day.

some things are made
some thing is gifted

it is to make
the received talent.

owning a lot of money although
not dependent on capital
but is it possible?
look at them.

love & hate
fixed
the amount you can
a lifetime

too much
love
hate too little
at certain times
Do not.

Romeo is
falling
willingly

Juliet is
falling
freely

they are
falling ap­art
to be one.

sunshine on the Wind
Birds flapping their wings
sound of a luxury car door opening
waving leaves
under the shade of a tree
sound of deer footsteps
languid afternoon time
headlights
falling leaves
Skunk bugle sound
Mole fumbling
with my Eyes
The blades of grass will tremble.