@aida12 22 June 2020

Wide Heaven

I was being scratched by the tree trunks wish I was insane, fragile flesh, she said, vomiting, Damn the goal that the goal is inclined. I was imprisoned in the cruel veil: stone, steel, shovel, guard, completely deprived of the whole world and considered it even alive. In the small window, only out of sight is a cloud of tears filled with tears, a sore throat of a wounded heart, flag of my misery. Lightning pierces the watchman's eyes, at the young man's door no one came near; The prisoner shouted in the adjoining fortress, an animal roar in the cave. The night seems like a chain at the point of the bloody foot, the whole night was blown away a casket that seemed to go away. Whenever a simple footstep passes, the chain's hook is cracking; on the pale day it will be unloaded, Thousands questioned in the dark. Occasionally, the night would be awkward on the signal-fugitive-and the fuselage; once the old gourd wept, in the fortified fortress, there is a dying. And this is my only world right now - prison baths are life burial; ten, twenty, and all year my whole life has been here. But it seems to be fearless and in the meantime the abuser is oppressed, all tyranny has a people reward. And tomorrow, there, too, I can see a cloudless sky, The golden day of victory will shine!