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!
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