All darts disharmonious
carried on rails without
red arrows bled
Black Gold is pumped
and nuances are lost
In the din of its passage.
Who thinks of a green oasis of relaxation mirage
hath been awakened to a nightmare
no air conditioning!
Tears tar
Piovon thick dense
To quench
Terra Arsa scandal mania:
Quadrupedi taught
credon God
Why is standing on two legs!
"The Sun is already dead"
Sunset is now
We went back sleepy
What are reasons to Their coffins lined with brown
mellifluous illusions
And there spingon increasingly
sink into the prisons built by the Masters .. .
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