Tears lines round cheeks,
Tears like tribal marks no one cares,
The bullet is gone,
The did is done,
Who did this doom?
A skirt from the roof?
Strange hands on mask cocked the gun,
White glove dropped the gun,
Vanished in a dark light,
Pain iced my brain,
Smiling tears kiss the cheeks,
Song of empty journey perches the lips,
No destination no vision becometh the hymns,
Infant rejoice in emptiness,
Still no one cares.

The room is dark,
No candle no lamp,
The letter is blank,
Ink on shaded shape,
Many names wraps the 'Will'
To who will it be,
Scaring melody in ears,
All skirts stand with their lads,
Searching names of their lads,
Mine boldly Smiles on the lists,
But no one cares,
For no face to define my face,
Breast I sock to see,
Dodge her face from seen,
Is like I'm far from the scene,
The mother's milk is now bitter,
I think,
Where am I in this dark 'Will'?

The young grey dude kissed the dust too soon,
The handwriting isn't smooth,
Five skirts with ten fruits,
The 'Testament' is empty,
Full of debt of luxury life or lives,
Ten giant fruits queue,
Names of all expect one on the "Testament",
Nothing is willed to all but one,
Like we are all bastards expect one,
A ' Will' with names but belong to a name.
A "Will" of a roof to a name,
Others inherit debt of life he lived,
We are all bastards but one,
Who?

IsaacDnk ✍️
© IsaacD-nk