Supernova
Swallowed by the supernova of the extensive space,
Lost in the isolated areas of mysterious lands,
Led by the filthy shallows that surrounds;
the minds of my consciousness,
Crushed by the strikes of thunderstorms,
merely a book that holds my grips,
in the devastating destruction of vacancies,
that pity my empty torn hands,
Though I write, with my bleeding fingers,
Blood that portrait beautiful texts,
they all read, but no man understands,
the magic behind my words,
Even my own angles, listen no more,
I beg refugee from the devils,
That abandoned the fires;
of a man that hold nothing,
You live in the anonymity of my minds,
A mind that never settles,
but never asks for more,
a fear that lives on,
caged beneath the forests of my minds.