WOUNDED DANCE, WOUNDED DANCE, WOUNDED DANCE, WOUNDED DANCE, WOUNDED DANCE

A rock becomes a philosopher.
Refuses to move
searching at the stars.
Rogue shirts have been strolling
on the clouds of unknowing.
I wished to eliminate all the clocks.
Who was stealing the drinking water?
Key of lifestyle? Impiety had
undone the pillars of random adore.
Ashes volcanic or of tears enter
the pores of consciousness.
The screams wake up the dark blood.
A naked doll pelts the grey eyes
on the blood sucking story.
A dark tunnel opens in street.Satish

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