No one runs the show
the truth is that the show is...

_ The shrub is gone
the roots are ruthlessly rotted...

Silence unites everything.
Silence means all the differences are particles...

She always voices
the truth in light to anoint...

Like a little sparrow
lost in the rain...

They stole our liberty
though...

Do you remember
in cold winters...

When a poet chants
a songster is ensnared...

Would a soldier abandon his post
in his grinding fatigue...

So much passion altering from feeling to...
measuring the seas with the concavities of rugged...

Imperfection is
the prove of perfection...

First the space
was an assumption...