2/13/26
A stingray that stings and sometimes sings, calm but rotting like a dying palm
The inside booby trap that ran and ran on a lap, chasing the same words that were read and read, until falling from the big thread.
Once the visiting clam that once had a pearl inside, shiny and round that made everyone looked at it around, next day the clam wasn't there, and dust began to form, it wouldn't stop it was the continues norm.
Promise you won’t get behind, promise you won’t lose your mind.
Light trapped in fright, good intention from all nation inside, looking from the side to side, desperate not just for endless answers but for the greatest grandness.
Promise the stings won’t hurt, promise for the feeling to fade, promise the strings won’t cut, and fall down the infinite shade.
colors gone, sounds gone, memories gone with bonds that I was I fond, laments became fragments, till becoming dust floating from the air, that ended up sticking up on my lover's hair.
Hope for staying alive, with a sudden feeling to thrive, levitating from the grown until noticing the clown.
I can't escape, in prison screaming like an ape, the whispering promises that once shouted to try, were just a mocking deformed lie.
Rotating all day until getting killed, from the prison set by myself, outside this place that's already filed.
Big infinite fields with non stopping spinning wheels, oceans and land getting held by a strand, no difference at all, all fishes have gills.