Desperato

Forgive the season again
its fallen and forseaken the vilage
like a stroke of bones,
like a cores of fire,
like life.
By its self yousles
with others yousles,
life is not important,
only time is importat.
Time to be, what you want to be;
time to live, yusles lifes.
The seasons dispel and churn
foging our visions
screaming to the gods in their colondrum,
a chiald wipes on her mothers body,
her time has past.
Sweet sent in the air
movment around us, above us, inside us.
FEAR
lonlynes of society
wispers of past and non comitment
your sences faid.
I am blind? i see nothing
I am deff? i hear nothing
I cant speack? nobody hers me screming
Maybe i am dead?
No... its not that easy
Where is the pain?
Were are the tears?
Where am i?