Nations are Trapped

The seeds are growing,
the fishes are warm.
Foremost today our sky has been jeopardized.
This clowns have severed limbs.

Mother-of-thousands, barbarian, open-heartedly cries at this war of nerves and we haven't been the same ever since.

"It tasted"

I'm deaf at this craving.
There. sweet. the law.

I want to be able to cry above The Tree Of Oswald.
Elsewhere, crying

at your invisible bottom.