Max Frye. White stones Harumi (№ 97506)

I'm not coming home - solved! The sky trembles like water.
How many thousands of steps from the marshy lowlands to the cold as the hands of the moon?
The bare branches bend under the weight of birds. Mind bird is screaming, it doesn't matter.
Let him holler. I have in stock the last breath of silence.
I'm not coming home ever, but it will be dead by morning.
The dark wind, and the night is cold the moon rotate at the damage, nothing!
You know, bird, I don't have a single drop of a servant, and not a drop of goodness, and not a drop of love, and not a drop of me.