Before You Die!
Before stopping, the wind still blows from the groin as smoothly as hope, that; you're really a painting in the wind.
I saw the moon swooping on the edge of the toilet before rahu swallowed and spewed its stomach contents into a disgusting masterpiece.
Good weather has done its best, and it will never be good as long as betrayal is still a star in life.
Then, what we want, besides seeing it die on the mother's stomach.
(It's the worst regime I've ever seen and met)
2018
Original poetry @Black-Horse!
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