A brisling terror
tormenting the kelp.
Give me a lamenting mast
that will not go, fall.
In the groins
holding a promise,
a crazy god lowers
the wheel.
The absolute alcohol
in your nerves, you
want to light the
candle.
Smashing a dark
hole, which leads
to the brown
Mars
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 13th, 2017 19:11
- Category: Nature
- Views: 13
Offline)
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