Damana Sumulan

Thrown out of the highest windows located in the borders of the skies. This was me, demanded onto the exactness of the clouds, where men are not mentioned from their state of birth. I could not believe it, on the reason I was about to die; the reason I found all I was known to be. The childhood memories came at me, in distant glimpses, coming at me in strange voids---only that I could remember reaching upwards towards the heavens, towards the white carpets!
The fumes, invisible to the human eye, came with fear into the human brain. I wanted to close both eyes, so that the fear that was within would simply cease in the action it was forbidding, but it would not should I even close both eyes. She looked simply at me, and I simply returned the glance; she, awhile I stared at her, raised her arm, and waved at me. What reason did she do this? Can I not toil with the world long enough to be believed with a woman? The crushing of the moon, the breaking of the dawning; these things were made simple when I was around the woman. That woman, whom I continue to name as a predominate figure, continues to look at me, continues to show me her armor---the flesh of a woman!
But at first, she came at me with lust, but decided to leave once the deed had been done. But what deed had been that which continued to go on for days, and perhaps human years, against the Lord God Almighty? Thousands of years, it seemed, came across me as I felt the rushing of the wind against my own flesh, as I noticed the deeper shades of blue across the vanity of the skies. Believe me. I have chance to live, else where, where my home belongs.
Knowing that she, the woman I was mattered about, which doesn't seem to matter at the movement, had thrown me out of the window, cracked in the purpose of the middle center, and outwards I went; shot me, shot threw the interior of the glass, making it simple for me to dissuade, trip, and cross into the air backwards. At the time I struck the ground, she was already crying; the weapon she used against me was on the ground between her precious thighs. Indeed, she killed me, but that didn't matter, for now I am living and able to create this tale of boredom.

The angels can see, and can praise: shall it be?