tiistai 27. lokakuuta 2015

In the throes of the storm

Last autumn leaves in the throes of the storm,
off target large, destructive.
Fraudulent Immet the sky, dancing,
shaking under his feet, all the potential of, mires etc..
Deceived fear when a human-wolves howl.
 human-wolves howl at the time.
I know the back of the neck cold death-grapples,
the point is installed in Finland 
down all then we carried.
You're hiding behind the cunning 
craftiness, still on the water you row.
Sin sisters gather over the winter off all the lizards.
My brain is like a touch-free,
strikes major flood of words. It floats me
my brain open seas, the pier has
 escaped from its beautiful beaches.
I as floating, the words have 
surrounded the exhausted writer.
I am a prisoner of between 
five lively sentence, comma,
and a point here and there.
 Port of sleep skating icy
site clichés. I can not find the world of cold,
her every stop of my words in this storm.
Others will find happiness,
 and the world to them, smiling.
I am the one who quagmire overwhelm words
for nothing is hiding. There is no calm in front of me,
without the waves of the open sea.

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