When fangs bite my
breath
And beckon for my
death
I saw a fall of
sleet
And fell venomous
teeth
Leaf sprout from
fissures
And light strikes
so demure
Like valley where
drought matures
My soul summons
for cure
A slowly close my
eyes
And everything is
out of sight
My spirit calls
his vice
To take with me on
flight
And when I reached
the sky
There grows my
memory
Scented and hanged
so high
Subdued by
stupidity
Finally I reckon
my will
There’s no such
big deal
Everything is
futile
Except the
reminisce of the flowers of April