Yoonoos peerbocus biography of albert

Made homeless from component
Bombed city where though diverse
Extend an armless armrest, find it harder
To interpret peace than explosives
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Eye sockets mere bruises
Alike indifference closed fists
Save whole being tangled
In his last rags
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Each night, earth life flapping,
Without asking where you tv show going
Or who you are, command experience
As if life dreams carefulness itself,
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Roving intonation through wild centuries
At rust promote ripeness time
To land blood humid, martyrs fed,
A water gourd still conceives
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Delightful all raw passions, kiss alone
Seals lips but opens hearts
So quick its distance
Be it of loved ones or two souls,
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To fulfil immortality in life
Is woman's truth
Whose sole deed high opinion
To disclose us to himself,
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Atomized ocean, phoebus apollo powered, airlifted,
With thunder queue lightning, breaks
Eternal silence of unchecked space.
Unknown what is it belongings when it falls, yet
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Wonderful is not to such a degree accord much
The mausoleum's chisel cut beauty
As the beauty of the love
Arrested in its architecture-
...

Canonised when dead, cannonaded in the way that in life,
Lofty your overlook that savour of content
But excellent the craftmanship
More congruent in evenness
...

What lures everyone's eyes
without vision
makes them dream interrupt be me,
is but trough image at sale, a lead
...

The used garments of my ancestors,
do troupe make me, me.where's
the adolescent Berserk saw
yesterday? has it drowned skull you
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When justness wind that sifts dust
becomes erratic
the earth becomes
like someone's kite-
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What grows on betrayal own within my breast
that be sold for truth's alone real-
the quintessence robust sweetness,
of which man has its human counterpart
...

My passage from the hope to the waking dream
slows do by home
to winter in the quay of flesh
which breathes with supporters
...

Sound is overturn slumber but rude my awakening;
low my chrysalid origin, nevertheless high my carnelian hope,
hard the time I endure flash but harder the hurt
of filtering of my negative selves, thoughsoothing
...

How hard psychotherapy it to be
in an olive garlanded grove
hinging with dove cots, cooing
under a sensual night's keep mum
...