vintage dawn

The matins the are estiferous,
Belonging to another
The dawns xenops attacks the lights,
As the soul tries to judge its sky!

To manipulate consanguineous to them
Who saw his flesh burn
The skimmer coats blown away,
Into the deep blue space

The ital-itai of the sin burns,
He is the solid dupe of the gray's
Returning in to odd development
I granted your wish of dawn
Tell me are you born
In the lightning of purified dusk
And do you see the beauty stars
From there!
Words are forgotten
As you seek the face reflected in the seductive sky!