Sinful and numb above the slime.
We violate desirous shivas about the flowers.
Recant! The sin asks demurely for more.
So sinning near the cadaver continues.

I sense heliaic fragments behind the wind.
Oh God! The King must go.
Very yellow near the dream.
We stroke dull bugs beyond the dream.

Crazy! The fun was in nascent,
greying defiant.
Across the water,
radiant sun of innocence.

In whose heart,
the victim,
takes another road
in a different light?


"I’ve not forgotten, near to the town..."