Longing for a corrective conclusion

Longing for a corrective conclusion

when the rain of hatred will turn into the hail fall

The suppressed conscious of Neanderthal will regain it reign again

Through the  quadruple game of brain for who to lead the milliard of modules?

or who to lead the the human, it’s conscious, forms or something like Not-self!

Or the organism that rise from the secret pain of a pale seagull

Will have comfortably flied up in the fresh air

Perhaps that will filled with neither oxygen nor hydrogen

some kind of ungrammatical air

Perhaps their would be a time about to sweeping up

That all the oysters from a kind of airy phenomenon

through the unfinished touch within the beautiful fair of colors.

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