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February 12, 2010
Incrustations on the sea of sleep
the waves of turning color wheels
the forceful snake that ties around my throat
suffocating, the ocean of waves,turns to mud
now instead it creeps inside
and feeds the violet stars on the ground each thought of freedom and escapement
the result: the lost cords,
a new approval is born and grows until it dies and it all repeats.
A critic to which no one survives
the role of strength dies
the turning head of bones
the silly lines given to the children
the haven filled of
nonsense words
unimportant sounds
required intelligence
and fake responds.

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