Omeleted Savior
Oh, how much I loved myself
Like an immortal, aware
Of my infinity, senseless
Poetry
305 works
In stamba
From the roof she screamed
From the building aside of my aspiration of her
Only when the river drenched
Among it
Glancing, life was a burial procession
I melted with the crowd toward the grave
A yell from ground raped my toes
Forgiveness
Kill me in the open view
Where the seen is unreal
Pick up a stone from that holy mountain or the other one
John 2nd
Today another angel had died
A world is marching to prayer
A thought of good and