Rainy Sunday Upon My soul

Writelesser if you can`t.
Unbeareble wall of nothingness.
the Skin its so Beauty that anyone can articulate it.
Something passes in front of them, but nobody tasks her soul.

Imparaholyc intengibledeblething-

This is not a Cloud it is a permanent haze.

The lines are not that straight.
But if you can count it, the less that you can`t grave.
Misplaced delined foward thinking.
Ghosts appears in the door.
But i distracts my self to smoke them.

Paradiddle, Humblingthose. Archaich tune. take away.