texts have the ability to survive for millennia .eternal works can survive even the rigorous reactions of wear and tear . this text is a work of a deep level of creativity from the source within .
I would love to talk of the moon, without talking about the sun,
to talk about peace, without thinking of war,
See the sun radiates X- rays while the moon radiates F- rays,
Her frequencies are low, so low you ought to hear her blow,
such a blow she deals us and all other living creatures,
going in, drawing the most Basic features inside us,
poking deep and peeking at our most hidden thoughts in the syringe that is drawn from within,
Folding us from inside out and crunching on us like a bag of chips without making a sound!!
GOD damn! SHE IS LOW! SHE HITS YOU AND YOU WONT EVEN KNOW!
Yesterday there was a Full Moon.
The drunkard ached for the caress of her bottle,
the coward slouched at the comfort of her fox hole,
The writer got a foundation from a foothold,
she works…
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Newton Robert 