"Strolling In Me"

Strolling past the dim streets.

The dull bolts.

The nurseries with the dead questions.

The dead streets..

Of the extreme torments of brain is going through..

The aggravation of an aggravation that prompts another ethical day..

Another matress of a spot in a day..

Setting me in the jugs of life..

Setting these feelings in jug of feelings..

A profound cryer..a day adherent..

A night scorer..A beat player..

I'm all that with the sorcery existing in the arrangement..

In the palms for my hands..

In any case, I'm simply strolling..

Strolling over the dim terrains..

The dim life where all there is, is..

Are the words says "I'm not okay"..

I'm not there..

I'm here where I should be..

Like a melody..

"Unending Vacancy"

Floors are so white

it transmits no light

Not terrible, but not great either lovely and fair

Can't resist the urge to gaze

Sloppy race

Blood ridiculous face

Tears inebriating tears

Numb so numb, no feelings of dread

Garments layered thick

It's not a result of it

It's also safeguard what is excessively perfect,

Provided that that were my destiny

A grin so calmable

You shake, simply shudder

You fall, not really good or bad sluggish

They simply holds you very much like that

It won't ever work out

Favorable luck evades this one.

—Obscure

A tune with a song yet a heart without no thumps..

Toss me in the breeze..

Toss me in the sun..

My life has quite recently started..

My story has quite recently started to feel like a..

Heap of firearms..

A heap of runs..

The runs of runs of runs of runs..

I place myself into just to see..

How far I'll go..

Be that as it may, wherever I walk..

Each deterrent I attempt to fight..

Is the standard, worn out fight..

Playing the standard, worn out life tune..

The standard, worn out me..just in another ..

Level..

Lower level where I coincidentally squeezed..

Base keys rather than the top..

My psyche is as of now going to..

Emit with the magma and the hot..

Red hot well of lava making me lose..

Another agonizing illustration..

One more day longing for me..

To see butterflies in the nurseries of life..

Where I'm strolling I attempt to pace..

As leisurely as could really be expected..

Ensuring I hit no breaks on the floor..

Advancing out of my..

Old entryway..

Furthermore, just.. Strolling in me..

—Energetic Writer

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Kelvin Dechi

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