Random Poetry

Weird and cold about the towers
We sense dull weirdness within the grave
Damn! The sin is dying
I am murky about the spirits
You poke arid thoughts behind the dream
Be luminous. The fun was hard

Totally sexy about the dream
We stretch sinning fangs about the water
God! The inspiration has vanished
darkening curious
not understanding
a sense of danger
In how many places
the other
forget to go home
unable to stop