Thus, whispered an hourglass in my ears:
No rock would ever survive the onslaught of time...

Stretching our branches
to the prospect horizons...

For the nurses they are old lesions
but for the patients...

While he asked mercy
for his wrong deeds, they hung him...

You looked at my skin and said:
you are not bleeding enough...

One was imploring
for forgiveness for the crime...

Butterflies of poetry
forever flutter in their reflections...

To P&Q
She said that I was too sad, too damaged...

Tell me why flowers
do not last...

These lessons are what gluing us together,
to this world...

There, deep inside the coal mine was pitch black,
Everything was doused in darkness...

It was raining.
Wind was straining...