I saw the tree man sitting on a window
Looking for unmerciful lands
Calculating thoughts and begging grace.
Zealots crying the death of a sudden sigh
Practiced by many
In the strangest hours of my imagination...
The door was open looking to be rapped
And so I scrapped the languid oath
I made the day before.
Walking through roads of narrow-mindedness
Forging the strange hours lived
In the name of puberty.
This world is carrying buckets of souls
Lost in the midst of vain summer nights,
Each one of them insulting each other
In a trance envied by the silent gods of emancipation.
Women, mothers and goddesses
Overlooking the candid smile of anyone’s child
Pleading for abortions
Extortions of the soul
Contemplations of any given hole
Fucked frequently
quick-wittedly
In an explosion of fear, spunk
and demonic ecstasy!
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