I don't want to know tomorrow
The night was long, and there was no one here to say anything. I did not know tomorrow to be reassured about it, but he came in another shirt, a sad man with a black scarf, we are with him masked, also he did not find his homeland
We have become in the wind, the resident does not have to leave, then we are waiting for what did not come,
We do not always get a result of this fatigue, and we become helpless, like someone who suffers from paralysis and rickets
We have many fears, not gossip, the fears of newborns, what will we say to them, we bear the waiting unbearable, sometimes we listen to the birds chirping in the morning,
I wish tonight, just a rest, like the chemistry of my head evaporates, or I leave the narrow space, the one that stabs me, like bullet fillings, with the taste of arrows, with the sparkle of swords and spears,
They did not allow me to touch my chest with a worn-out thread, like an orphan who has forgotten how his mother threads a needle.
If there were no reasons for laughter, why should I die? I spent the night doing nothing, listening, and hearing nothing but the wailing of a lover whose face he did not meet.
Loss comes in the form of a deer, he stood erect from despair, the rage of predation has emptied him of everything, in order for him to forget humanity, under the shadows of gold, whenever you try to bend the heart, he remembers.
He says I remember my childhood, the sparkle of my eyes behind the candles and my laughter hidden in wonder.
I said why is he suffering
This broken one complains about his splint, During my life like this night, I hoped that the full moon would appear for an hour, He revived his victims, Who forgives him, Heaven's gate is far away, Who closes the rest of the doors, He who gives the stamp of scarcity, Sometimes tears descend quickly from my chest, He hated
I can't beat him, he knows how to crouch, when he objects, he spills with pleasure, bitter pleasure, a matchstick, ignites patience from his first spark, his pure glow is painful, so that my ribs become visible and empty, night he let me talk to his imagination
With a bad cigarette, and an elegant cup, I have no strength to reach my heart, and I am like a bird whose mother forgot to give him a wing, while her wing was broken, the gray night had a masquerade, he came to ask for those who conceal his sacrifice, he went away and came to drive away the mirages and joys that are the same Hopes do not bring signs of some bad things, it was a shaggy, discontented stream, hiding the conscience of the unemployed to rejoice in its success, I don't care , what you say to me, and some tremors of my trembling, I was patient without restraining it,
it got me
I got him this hour.
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