Staring from behind the lines
into an invisible dark room.
thoughts
more frightening than the Ballerina's trip to Rome.
i'd find the soul stones,
I'd relieve myself these painful moans
fulfilling my promise,taking you to the Moon.

The good we do never yield good
mama's injustice is a poisoned food.
The last day of the week made me weak
leaving my soul,a painful prick
till I saw her soul ascend between the clock's tick.