‎I hear no voice crack, no bones cry and some child chills

‎Old man sits on limit, voice of the land sounds eerie. 

‎Undazed by the tone of darkness that rules the age, young men part in the music of darkness.

‎One uses bamboo-like bass, another penetrates the soul of the song with high alto.

‎Soprano is spontaneously sponsored, sonorously sufficient.

‎The hidden sweet sounds were invoked by lads, as they sang the song of darkness.

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‎I cried out in agony, I cried out against the darkened normalcy, I cried out against the depth of darkness that accommodates the space, I cried against the ocean of blood it has been dipped.

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‎I hear the music of the baut

‎is this a bait? I bounced.

‎Then its ray race from behind the veil and its beauty fill from pace to pace.

‎I embraced, small embraced, smaller embraced tightly and smallest truly tightly embraced.

‎But why won't the universe embrace the baut and leave the music that kills the soul.

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