The static sounding in my ears The time that passes by in years Simplistic reasons thrown in gears As harsh experience kills fears In soft-serve
Letters keep on being sent, Will he ever descend? In that tight bubble of posh and mighty, His inner self is flushed With responsibilities, work,
Climb down again, fall like a log, Expecting night to flow.. Another turn, another day We’re doomed again to draw.
Veil from her eyes is off; long slim fingers took them off. Her eyes meet eyes of girl, the king of green like swamp forest,