• fromwitchpen 8w

    Blah. Idk what this nasha is . Something new I tried .
    #end

    As I have seen many of you didn't got the actual point in this post pardon my negligence let me elaborate it

    The first verse is about wine how it touches the throat what we feel even the colada feels a piece of trash in front of it till we puke it out in dustbins and it burn into areas surrounded with blood death and hearses . (The taste of wine is like the wet sand after rain)

    Second verse states that: I have talked about few girls as periwinkles its like wine sex and love or pain. So yeah, they walked in a ballroom trying to look as elegant as this is what erupts their synchondrosis joint. Like a categorized clichè girl. Fueling their dresses with bra cups, underarms and hips all ready and cleaned up and at that time the pimples when start pirouetting on their skin many stares which are eerie make them loose the last gum of their mouth as they bump with any man and he use her on his dashboard cupboard and then she again bloom in mudpots but the end is always pain and pain. (It means the suburbs and (bra) cups are carved with foolish people's gaze)

    Last verse is about the themeparks the childhood we have lived and with time we killed it with our own desires its all cold now unfathomable and bizarre life filled with bewildered gossamers and confusions . (I gulped in love to feel the pain)
    Hope this helps :)

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    I cut your thighs in moribund sighs

    Wine :-
    It obliterate the heartbreaks
    artbreaks breaks. Chainsmokers
    or something sourly cold gave
    shivers shivers shivers to the
    throat's skin. Oh, Akin to the
    last love , last night or last home;
    cursing the eternity, mortality or
    illi-city. Dumping a colada in the
    near vessels or utensils . Toss
    one's cookies in the dustbin
    bin-burner. Zilch the environs
    faubourg or purlieu of heart-hearse
    blood-boneyard, deceptive-death
    /The wine tastes like cake of slush after rain/

    Cups:-
    Periwinkles in mudpots cupboards
    dashboards decomposing the
    hiraeth
    hiraeth hiraeth in iced-isle
    soigné-synchondrosis in egyptian
    ballrooms fueling the bra-cups
    underarms and hindquarters with
    banal pigeonholed pirouetting
    pimples and thousands of leer
    eerie or queer the end gums
    just bumps sticks of drums
    /Cups or suburbs carved with rubbernecks/

    Ice or fire:-
    By the to the if the of the in the
    flames of parque de atracciones
    of my childhood chomping the
    gallimaufry to get the hold of
    those torn lurking-labyrinths
    the maze oh blaze what a phase
    I've lived so blue so dazed and
    so cold so cold so cold so cold
    /I gulped in fire to feel the iced pain/
    ©fromwitchpen