I think it's enough as a verse
To carve memories on white canvas
Paint the colors of the rainbow of the past
Draw your hand strokes dreaming
straightening lines
like a river flowing upstream to destiny
Take a look: in the red dot line
The wings of the raven's wings span inflammation
Howl screaming corpse
even if you don't mourn
life is in vain fostered
vain hugged
on the star's fortune
Even stabbed.