It’s just another piece of write
That graphics in withdrawn hands
The uncertainty of sea and shore,
In axiomatic weathering of coat,
Though by now sparks are aqueous,
Famine coves out landmass.
Meanwhile you have gulped
All the lunar woodlands,
As close as up to your throat.
Lo! I have promised her to reach—
The air that pierced the bosom of my pen--
Preserved, the shell of nuts within.
I must give her all the essence of elixir.
The earth is triumphant in heartrending tones,
The earth is tearing off the umbilical chord—
For them who care for those.
Here the fatigue comes and licks
In mock affection the proxy chin
Or digs in the baffled mole.
May be then you are in
A charity, sitting leaned
And a scorpion crawls upon you
Bound for your head where sits your wound.
Well, I end up to here,
And I won’t turn back as far
As it is relative.
Sinner has seen me declined,
It’s time I squeeze myself to stone
Let all cheer and watch the game,
Those who nurture venom in their smile
Those who dwell in Cobra’s basket.
