My sleep, you ever perturbing; ruthless breaking of this glacier infused ocean.
You walk, took me over the lights and the trees to find my woman from the inhospitable holes.
Sex, my impeccable beauty; I contain no other… than your deliciousness.
You war, induced me with luscious romanticism, took my bread and left a wounded poem to drink with.
Comrades, joined me with your phallic desperations, shaded a tear and one or two lives inside this neurological-camp.
A vessle sleeping awkwardly on shore. Slapped and pastered beyond the stretch of a lifetime,
bring that last swim, bring that last drink, bring that last sensation of puberty.
Death won’t ‘tremble’ to take me, I won’t ‘tremble’ to take me,
we both would kiss on our asses and be the whitest Lillies to be ever appeared out of ashes.
And after all what a man wants more than getting burned out with poetic endeavors!