Whistle of Crowd
Whatever the sound-
To redden the fake heart!
Youth flights to the tender thoughts.
Candle is orthodox-
Then why against the pot-
Horror is a sign to candle-
Against the croak?
Trapping history-
Men or women who were grazing to get gaze-
And faking the handshake.
The handshake ought to come-
Because of pouring clouds?
Clouds of misty mystery?
Love sighs the size of cloud-
And the frozen minds care-
Forgot the dead bits and snatching the dare.
That was care-
Really the walkway-
Spiky sides of river mare.
Breeze came-
Dreads blame-
What a share-
Revering sicken layer!
Life is a blur shit-
Violent violet gazing the fear.
Nights are drape-
Days are fire.