Now that you're late,
Seeing you with your drifting tongue sitting barely on your silent body, eyes no longer a rolling model,
The Armon have stiffened the ears,
In the night of this afternoon, we have seen a white-dark lane of empty world travelling on the realms of the sea-side; we embrace the hours, though with hatred.


Now that you're late,
Moments of days open the hours of memory,
Duration of time reads the Colon of agony,
The wind briefly summons the sounds in harmony.......
We are in the middle of what had been and what's to be;
What's to be, though the Ocean of unknown truth never spell out the pen of life where others miscellaneous are in shape to nag.


Now That You Are Late,

On the 20th applause, much more is left for synagogue.
The nilecoleon mumbled in erosionic pattern, thus, you're late:
Far off from this trip and stepped on this unsuccessful hours,
May we praise the gods for the meaning;
But, when the twilight of the darkness invaded, the gods does not cherish the minutes,
As birds fly pass the limits,
We all loan out our soul to cry sing in unit.......

Our thoughts congeal our seeds of reasons to think when rings of noon are blushing of needy......!

And Though You're Late!
On the journey that you have embarked on, never you drop by nor look back, shake the dust off your feet and match on......
Here, we shall not cease crushing on each others amid the devil's resistance to live.