Wind Silhouette

What do you think of this?

What little is left of my life I give you my reader. Now comes the moment when the line must be drawn and fighters must join with blue faces and sharp spikes. I'm going to circle like a ball spinney tied around my soul to keep the - the what. What is my enemy, if not myself when everything seems like a gigantic sphere barrel rolling stone - you hunt, chew your care, ready to shoot you down squish and broken bones and guts in your ears and eyes - and only when you want to run. Yes, I have to circle in their colorful dresses and smiling smile white around my soul like a small wooden ball to protect themselves from Moorish giant pontoons on me during the day and slap me awake at night - the silhouette black will not turn to my family of executioners and achievements of my life as a wind-blown sand of the desert.

I believe what you pass in your excellent talent and skills, is likely to be another hand, while your body lay helpless, and your inevitable death .... In your manner of language, I find it very stimulating.

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