. . .
comes the age of none,
witness of each other’ work,
are we going
are we doing,
then we must not,
then we care of,
why are we even trying,
when all needs to be,
lets just pick up that stick
and ke3p slashing
and never ask,
. . .
conspir3 me a perspiration of noggin,
does not stop knocking on thin air,
wont it ask the moon to laugh in mid summer June,
while the sun fixes its eye on a flower tower.
To the bereft,
for those at the aft,
we will and not,
yet still follow Pandora’s son,
into wild sun.
Where temptations are always there for us,
from three to none.
. . .
that life does giveth all there is to know,
and we dont liveth to the point of a devil’d life.
Then we know whaf hell was meant for us,
when heaven is attained not only from and to the soul,
only which a body knows what is a pleasured pain,
than living a sensation which pain has nothing
but everything that the mind conceives.
With ferocity i will cling and claw with all of my might and mind that never leaves me behind.
Ang lakas ng utot,
meron na atang laman ah. . .
I wanna be human,
I wanna live and die with every part releases into that wild wind.