The braillic sun Finally shew her face
All the cold rains
Hearts of gold melt wax
Dissolved in the mud of Umudi
All hail! Hurray! It is finally over!
They sang out their tougues
And merry away their wallets
Smearing our world on moulded pallets
If the sun smile tomorrow
Will it wash 'their' sorrow?
Their glory could become hollow
Pains have become their pillow
While they congratulate
And copulate
I hope we are late
Not too late to regret!?
No comments:
Post a Comment