Shiver the little twinkles of diamonds they hold, you aren't wealthy .The holes in your eyes , are not dark, not white, but gray.The ash of your dead body , does not spring, but flys to the sky.The blood that gives you life, does not bleed , but weeps.All these twists that spiral, they don't hold neither, they hold one.The confusion of a spoken parallels, are not ....
The man whom sits upon the porch with a lit cigarette, he does not speak, he knows to speak.Now sit, sit with this god, this glory.You see that passion that flakes , he doesn't, he cares for man, not man, but he is man.Shimmer , please say her name, I won't cancel . Can't I be your god?