Io sono triste oggi

affligy , dysoly , peiny , triste

that's how I describe it...

the wind hasn't blowing yet

but the moon already crying..

raindrop stuck in the cloud

for fear of causing another flood

or maybe can cause another tsunami..

adumbration stood there like a statue

entering authority of fresh virgin..

"u can't refuse or switch it off like that??"

its not easy as if u were blowing the flame of a match stick

but my mother's womb keep on screaming

"ma peddih..ma peddih..ulu' ku"

then...lights off, shuts the door..

lock the room..

ends of the story...

"wewen's voice"