She held her breath on shattered glass,
A bullet,
Had wheezed through the rustic cabin, about the size of a child's play house (I hyperbolize), space in window, hole in heart,
Rays of sunlight, piercing through the dark,
Filling my chest,
I'll explode, like magic waiting to happen!
She still could see fragments of summer,
Hidden beneath his broken smile,
His soul had kissed death in gladness.
A fair goodbye,
'Do the dead know more life in peace?'
'Ask the bullet, '
Shell on the floor, cloth in hand, wrap up the five weeks corpse.
This vast world has become a bullet space, I behold with broken vision, while half my eye bleeds like the wailing moon and glacial raindrops.
