Sham-injured

      
     In the company of haunting, worthless promisers and misdeeds, the idea of a prophet-hermit is still left alone: immortal romances would be needed for candlelit dreams, holy dinners, and not cheap, prostitute words! How much hesitantly doomed human desire chews our unceasing innocent souls! It is as if a single deep-hidden thump echoes ready to erupt in the soul-deep and stares incessantly at the gaping abyss with the vigilant, dilated pupils!
      
     Conductor and concrete reality commands are often confused; silent silences wall in themselves to make my desire! My panting heartbeat degenerates into a loud rumble, and in the secret alley of blood vessels I dream of the still livable moments of the Universe! Is it possible to prepare for the invisible future in the tangible Present?! - The unspokenness of my feelings still surrounds me: it flies away like a black petal butterfly, like a stray breeze, and then returns as an unexpected surprise!
      
     My eternal child, who is startled in me, is short of me, because you can guess there is no spark of mercy left in unworthy human monsters! My thoughts entrusted to paper on the remnants of my shattered dreams contemplate like easily flying ship wonders! My soul-loneliness has been inhabited for a long time: I would try to express myself in the hidden, spiral-magnet formula of attraction and repulsion, not to mention the rest of my faith on recklessly screaming rails…
      
     As an assassin, he lurks at me, he's watching, he'd be scouting if I left Being and he can't wait to take my head for others! The pain falls back on me! It would be good to find something next to Someone who accepts