The Scream (1893) by Edvard Munch
He realized there...
No one stands for the truth anymore.
Coward’s necks are back to their turtle shells...
<<One should know of the illustrated book: "The...
They sounded so ostentatiously strong...
Tell me why flowers
do not last...
All the truth
is hidden in the moments of a bird silence...
Such a strange affair,
between here and there...
Your unsheathed thorns and
my laceration are why...
Clouds split where we touch,
Everlasting sprinkles shine...
Life is a guitarist
who has never owned a guitar...
You were digging deep
for flaws in me yet you...
When I write something
I make sure that I'm written...
Whatever starts must
also end. Whatever ends...