Rapping at your window
and tapping on your door...

My red freedom, you've a door
Knocked on by each blood stained hand...

In our Halloween party
we petrify all the pirates...

Roam in the 'Land of Kenana',
near the decent Nile...

If you're a slayer,
you can suck all my live blood...

The wiser you are
the less you speak for nonsense...

I do have
nostalgia to you...

Any mankind's weak,
but getting strength from weakness...

My white rose started to wither, its fragrance...
My white rose could not survive the drought, thus...

Rains
Newly born rains drip...

Every poet has a specific target
what makes one keep on writing...

Live
to give...