Untitled.

I rise like a flower budding.
Soon dead, feeling nothing.
Cold wind blowing on my rotting corpse.
The breeze isn't stopping and my voice is hoarse.
Fuck a butterfly. It's all dead.
The A-Bomb drops from the sky
And lands on my head.
Disaster spread through these fields.
Everything dead in thse fields.
Eyes red up,haven't been to sleep yet.

Love is free in all the ways I am not.
All the pains and strains disappear over the years and just stop.