Why do I part with
my grief, my poems...

That fleeting incandescence
was branded witch...

The riot was within.
Not getting along with social...

Less molecular
affinity exists in the breaths...

A blind spot
was clinging on to earth...

The end of night had left
a bloody trail...

The age has taken
away the bones...

It was in reach for,
a chilling sensation...

A dream without
a dreamer wants to reach...

This was the rise of animal
after dividing...

Before you eat
your words...

O Earth,
today, standing on your bones...