This is how the wind blows
like the tiny tendrils that goes
beyond the afterstorm
...
may be to a chapel to pray to God
winning all the bets to keep the belly warm
those days seemed harder to cope
but now wondering who else isn't bleeding to bleed more
...
wonder if the stars are really just a mess
that tainted nights to wish for better bad
(I mean for worse, but it got worst)
wouldn't it be good if they weren't there?
so my soul...