Wanted to resurrect,
to say something.
Wouldn't find the right words.

A non-fiction story develops.
There was no game.

A scented feel wears,
a body. You want to tattoo
the name of a fairy,
that wears a mask.

You walk with death
on the road to meet the
violence. The road doesn't end.

Sky will follow you
till you jump on the red sea
to fight with sun in
dawn of tears.

Why the moon hides
behind the clouds of guilt?