The touch, irritably perished, 
like a ghost in the darkness besides death tolls. 

Part of the swing, a crucible's lion, between the comb. 
The tale of a devoured limb, 
a fraction, bold menace. 

One's miss, 
the hit and run forever of the cause,
will not ever conceal what is ventured. 

Away with precaution, enveloped report, 
a hill has haunted the ego's norms. 
Still lunacy, pay no mind to gravity nor the report. 
My mind was set to find the Devil. 

A rash feed induces, the scepter of the euthanasia of the children comes 
it's our might, the titular reborn. 
Like a flesh's moribund accuracy 
may the kingdoms flourish
igniting the pale visage of her own choice. 

My exchange, 
my holy gratitude, 
my long beloved. 
Your faults are so white that it's clearer. 

To you I concentrate on avenues, 
the limited voice, 
a choir has neglected to reason. 

When I say that it's everything, it's you enough, 
because we are both incomparable dreamers as mutual.