The Perilous Years

Those years were freshened years but the sea Was filled with stomach cramps, and with burning tips Against the psychosis on essential truthful belly Vibrating of dying fishes As they were jumping angry over the sun's rim as if they were a kind of greener monsters. A toxic light as the procession of ecosystem essentials With its own measurement fled over all these scattering shadows Of abiotic paths, and evil emerged Everywhere from east, west; north, and south In addition, its demented ray makes love To the son of Harlot who was striking suddenly a final world As a wedding ass in a golden plate, which contain A reference to the uncommon value of what we are And in addition why we must perish. In a small fountain, however in such concentrated waves By diluted waters, I drink the rich juice Of the silence, the directness of the naturalness, The profundity that dominate the fool, And from those who create the essential truth I try to be alive, and that is the only reason I was loving this unknown monster because I myself not human, Not a soul sailing but a rare thyroid that created those Structures threatening to evade the failing Moment; as they say, the Hope made the killers Smiling, when the verdict was just a fancy holder, Moreover, there like a virginal snake, I bite the most Sweet breast of heaven, not that gracious evil, Because I am the third appeal, the one you hate. And when the monitors were still Invisible, I know a voice shall be thrilling off: "Oh! I born tomorrow and I can erase Myself today and see myself in front of you Twenty thousand years for now, but I am the child You kill, you rape, oh, you bastard. As an antibiotic behind it, All things still pursing each other, By the still unknown forcer and with intensity All smashed around me. I am the one!