The black beans toasted and grind
Filling every wasteful hot water in this mind
Stirring the Aplonian and Dionysian soul
In me that fights in a fierceful battle
Grief,angered, cool air surrounds
Every moving thoughts of a slanderer
Knocking down every sting of intellectual reasons
Nevertheless, it is just a mere imagination
Lavished, abused memory of some summer romance
Breaking into the entire course of this hallucination
Like a drug addict rehabilitated
Brought about by a deadly and incurrable obsession
What kind of man would I be?
If in some acrobatics of love I can't flee?
Though a monster of intellectual capacity
Man is just a dust in the truest sense of chastity.
It's one of my compositions...hope you'll like this one folks
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