He was greatly accomplished
To clutch his control.
Toped the enemy from his forehead
He feared the ground of earth.
Past was grew: anarchy of hedonism.
He spoke to me with thousand
Fires.
Supposed to go for a end of war:
He told a feminine tragedy drove
By himself
But it was dry on his mouth
He was leading the musk of past.
Wiped out tears from his hearts.
There was no priest to confess him.
He was flattered by the shadow of
Himself.
Felt in a dark room buried the wishes
Of him.
A woman betrayed him through
Her husband.
He was fired the mental anatomy of
Him,
Stoned it as a highest mountain
Beams were covered with hard iron.
He sat on his place to inaugurate the
Badness of him.
He was not well to improve the
Animation of his tragedy:
Forgot the large lost of him.
Never felt a word for himself:
Could not breath for it.
Jam-packed to him into pessimism.
No one could imagine about him.
He was sleeping at a dark hour.