So they stay there on the arm rest and my pen on the table as I go through the turmoil again and again and again until my hands actually gain strength to write it down or my heart stops pumping blood into my viens.....
The dysphoria settled in As she heard what was murmurmed The kaffeeklatsch, as she was hearing Said another muse has now entered And that is when she believed the saying It takes one sentence for a mortal to be murdered.
There happens to be a profound melancholia she cannot subdue, trapped in these mighty rock walls. Like a surfeit of shards of a broken glass, cutting as she falls.