scarlet letters to fortune,
i appear as a vulture,
and i feed on your liver.
you're a Protheus naked,
tortured soul, but awakened.
Not a corpse, a life-liver.
yet they hunt high and low,
a looking eye on your home,
i'm an ungrateful mudball,
but barely a griever.
loathe all things that around,
every sand, every sound.
although i've been safe and sound,
but still eager.
vae, puto deus fio
© Copyright: Неттер Линг, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123022804612
Свидетельство о публикации №123022804612
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