homily

the beauty of sorrow,

deeps me in my ears.

better than a poem

written for a song.

much more epic

but highly avant-garde,

fairy tales of a present. 

tenseness makes me feel

the up-tempo of our lives.

purity of vibrations.

retrospect them all,

just for a creepy sound.

in the space that it is

unique and self-created.

dynamism of every noise

ended up in difference,

clearing up minds.

environmental found,

sounds from a faster look.

and the words are also,

everywhere to hear it down.

sometimes a whoopy guiding.

composed to minimalize

a young person’s expectations.

playing the life itself,

flowing hyperbolical.

experiences on existence,

firstly to be lived by ourselves.

partible memories can also;

be connected or gone.

but the sounds of ten auras,

are still here to be with.

three more minutes then I’m...