sometimes the stars are full of woe,
only if we know how it comes at night..
i mourned old songs of spook & they forms hollow
in my pendulum
fighting through my body & into a lament mouth
hoping to peel away the heavy stroke of harmattan that frustrate patient souls
throw away into an island
remember, i am like an open sea like a bird
hurried into the cloud of an old hymn
this is my pendulum where my tales are told a silent
full of books of woe a drum of death
now who cares to tell me where & how will life begin me?
a life full of dust, i can’t remember when last i sang a song of tranquility
in a scorned house only songs of wind blows death
i walk alone on the road with thoughtless mind & drag alone my heavy…
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