I didn’t find the mystical variation of my needs
but still walked past my heartbreaks
and wind blown rumors of my cowardice.
The trolling of a bigot snake
hidden in the path of righteousness
led my actions into a burnt bridge.
What would it be,
to learn and never know
the purpose of fine art,
or so be it the outline of a beautiful woman,

submissive to your heart’s dark needs.
While the sun rises from east to west,
life is but a rain drop,
almost to hit the ground .
Countless imaginations.

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