Poetry generator

Setting The Land In Motion


In the face of so many havocs to positivity.
Conversations of dews, the recitation
of prizes we call warm
faucet.
What taunts the props of wonder?
Has the jungle been created with curiosities?

Once there was a explosive giant
who
shone at parties, sitting in a tetrahedron, among souls.
Someone here is waiting for the next aroma.
Film. You crystallized yourself for creating.


I do not fall in the divisions of inevitable trapdoor.
The momentum decays, the atom of profound
kisses among.


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