Children Cannot Die
My lost dreams, my falls, my reverse duchess.
I'm the devil in the schizophrenic's mind, lurking in the soul of a disrespectful brat.
When the sun was rising, that color spreading in the sky, won the hatred of a baby.
My soul, which I have missed from the naked world, is killed in the breath of a girl whose hair is like a tree root.
My soul, which I missed from the whole world, disappears in a single wet and short breath.
Crushed between my fingers, the hair of the demon weaves its arrogant beauty into my bulletproof chest.
It was the consolation of the raindrop falling on my eyelashes like a ruby, salty tears rolling from my eyes like a sigh.