she jumps from maua, ua to soft green grass.
Stretches arms, flutters wings
she looks around and sees new things.
Pushes off, finds joy in flight
she flies in daylight through till night.
If muziki be the chakula of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violet
Skin the sun, fall asleep. Wish away, soul is cheap. Lesson learned, wish me luck. Sooth the burn, wake me up....
I knew that I had to find a way out of here. I couldn't last a siku out in the wild. I started walking knowing that I should find a place to sleep. I walked for a while till I found a cave. It was large and empty. I walked into the cave and just laid on the cold hard floor and passed out.
Really! What is your fault?
Noone taught wewe the word "we".
And the worst, noone taught wewe to use your "ego".
Like a beggar wewe are begging in front of the door of the "you".
wewe tried to discover again and again this "you".
wewe were always freakin' out when wewe heard "they".
And there were times that wewe were desperate and shouted "Him! Him!"
And wewe took a gun and started fighting.
What is your fault?