Monday, 11 September 2017
You do not make an eye contact with a thing,
Even though dead men don’t tell tales.
By a mad miracle,
Poverty assaults your ego,
And your heart and guts hung hooked.
Night comes black,
And breath deserts you,
Lifeless, a corpse, just a thing!
Tongues fall quiet,
When dead men finally meet.
But anyway, dead men don’t tell tales, they are all just the same.
When you will get there, you’ll find everything waits for you. It’ll be gentle, it’ll be wild; but everything’s there. Do not f...
My sons, Keep vigil over your blood And every day: invoke your forefathers To give you a living guide. My sons, Tomorrow y...
Photo Credit: Alex|Pintrest “It is time for fresh and boiling blood;” Mumbled the big bellied man, looking through the side ...
Baby; It is true, that I don’t know how to give up on you because I just can't do it like the way I can’t stop breathing. ...