Inside the closed in walls of the July that has come and gone, the words were broken down, in a past without tears...

The edges of my fading memories, the far off, frozen, unreachable life. In a crack in the mirror that no one can hold, a broken doll sings silent tears of mud. Drain the maggots' blood in the days that will never be returned, and pierce the eyes with the briars of a clock that crumbled to dust within seven days.

The cruel judge records the faded letters of my life... Only a bird with broken wings can sing the truth...

With light only silence...

Death is frozen all the way to the edge of its molecules. While the night loves eternity, at the same time it chops down desire with a stone axe. Drink up the pain of a brain being split open!

The twelve winter messengers who were washed ashore...

The mirage above the piece of paper... The spent country made of glass... The corpse sings with a necklace of many, many tears on its breast... The duck's shadow on the cliff where light has ceased to exist... will the blameless traveler ever tell of this story?

When nineteen cold moons have crossed the sky after the day of pronouncement, and the night has passed, the world will end with the rising of the sun. What else can we do... other than smash the green plate...