Long nails.
Overcoming soon
After the moon
the sun you'll see
Standard ways approached
No one noticed the patterns
No one - but me.
The roads heads onto a parenthesis
Two dots moving willing
B-Side jam, dead end man
It's just weeping
while the pain vanishes
while I pack sixteen strings
I keep on standing this lack
of bending pages.
Hereafter, the rift between
the next chapter
or the next song