Lines on forehead are deepening.
No signs of abatement...

Nomadic moon was roaming
in the maddened fear of night...

Ready to dismember the red geraniums
rains had no mercy...

Living on fringe
he was stealing genes...

That grave alchemy
of cold fusion...

The reverse gravity pulls me
into timelessness...

I was trying to communicate
the poverty of words...

The show is on.
Sedition will play with death now...

To disconnect oneself
you push apart, from the stasis...

The wait begins adorned with symbols
for shadow to fall...

After dousing the bride to a nice flame,
in between the howls...

Pearl - drops
on your upper lip...