Loved and lost, it was a farewell, On the large backseat of my car Where our passion has gone too far I softly kissed her face and lips Knowing it was only a dream

My lack of love My fault ambitions It is not a song That fault is my curse Dancing from a sky after the storm

Why are there non Euclidean geome… Is as obvious as curved spaces, Waves, and ondulations of planes l… Tsunami and earthquake As Henry the fifth or alike,

The void cannot be full of blood Arms and hands, legs and heads. The head is full of electric storm… We wish our foes to be beheaded. Colours fill the extensive world o…

Your stood by me more times than… You gave me the urge to live only… you My friend stood as my blank point, No blank slate could erase you fro…

All this effort to underline the n… As if it were the main chapter of… Only feeds the growing of the deta… A song of dry Taprobana, temperan… Last strophe, smashed hope.

It was the bloods and the creeps As I needed it all on the arm The world struggling to harm That ethereal nature deep inside By monetizing every inch of it.

Slumber, Sacred Goat, Satanism, Sacrifice to what we should be, So virtuoso as always was he, Plough, insensate, riding on stone… Parsimonious subject content with…

I hate your hate, it is neither fa… By its your compassion that makes… False as true a black widow’s bite False as the frog’s tongue deceivi… I hate you am I’m gonna splask yo…

Yesterday I heard I have a heavy… As time passes it grows heavier. Question, diversity around Xavier… As is the effort of not writing As is the effort of doing it right…

A touch of blood to the head. A corps in inverted position. Attraction, ended communication, All her remains analyzed, Not a given supposition.

2017-08-17 Under the neon light a hors d’oeuv… Two lamps ahead the gorgeous femal… Brings up the predator to my shado… Willing to pick them both in a bow…

Who am I? No sono nessuno. Although I were teached to write Instigated to enhance my might Told it was a lost cause not to fi…

I had decided not to live with her, although I loved the girl Such nostalgia, alcoholism, even if the chest tightens past 17 years We danced until the temperana afternoon became wet daw...

As the memory is the faculty of fo… But not all in all, the last remai… I say it is subjectively occurring When your doubts about yourself ar… As certitude has sadly ended