lauantai 28. helmikuuta 2015

Bed on the bottom of back pain in prison

No matter how much concerned,
no tears drenched cheek.
I changed vocalize
Time to have a rest, not on the
stop under me in march.
Tomorrow is march,
bloodless mollotava cold moon
as soon as the sky on top of the arch
whatever the height of the lands.

Inside the Finnish language sounds,
although the pain members
until the bottom of the anchor.
I forget sitting skills,
supine, and standing
yes this is a moment of life arc
forward to go to.

Not in my brain cells to immobilized
even panacod not,
they are busy drumming in my head,
and from place to place chords to roam.

The morning moth, whether it be a cup
encrypts all drank my coffee?
Hazy dreams, dormancy caused by
mental images.
They are sufficient for the brain
Out, texts again exudes.

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