Death comes out of deathbed
Extends its hand over the wheel
And steeped as much we could drink
Stepped forward lying on its crutch
While church's bells grind its sound
Sore or sour in ten glasses is poured
To be drunk spoon after spoon
Thus, so much the heaven would say
Call the desperate man to my shed
And I would be a kind hand to him
So a man would ground his teeth
Fell sick as much as did not guess
To banter as a punter where could move
Like a player when he goes offside
A dropped seal down into its universe
While median of maids heard out in curse
Thus, life is being unstable mode
Wears a white coat but inside is black
Come on and hear the music calls all
Twice or triple at last will faint
Behind your curtain you would never hear
Come and tickle the verse in written mode
It goes down as much as deep
Though capture the cancer where has been
In stomach or in left my abdomen conceals.
I am a man of sense and attitudes.
Though what say, I am my curve-growth choose
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Originally Posted by Danik 2016
