Infactuation...

My life seem as deep in turns,
just to become a silent wish,
ashes lurks were the rest has gone,
Stop.
she walks around, and moves beyond,
my insistant domination,
the prey,
goes wonder and wonders,
where has the hunter gone.
Come by.
nightlines of an strange behaviour,
reels in our glimerings ecos,
and misterious dancelings crawls our inner withins,
sublimary outstandings.
Listen.
I just wanted to feel the essence of the flesh,
poke the raw effect of my misjudged wishes,
wirl into the gaze of its angelical enlightments,
where my soul would take a heavy rest,
after a long lived term of paranoic disfuncionality.
Dream.
MOTHER FUCKER.
hahahahaha.

Maldito creativo