Zenith (Poetry)

The amount is not the one who is the sea,
Where body,
There is no dust pure,
In which I should take off the same
Where there is no mind,
the horse of the sacrifice

Whom you return,
Where can I be able to come,
Where there is no public,
In which I can get a prestigious personality by drowning

Sunshine is blissful,
Today I have climbed,
This bottomless dark pit,
Blues of the sky

Do not touch, stop, don't call me,
Do not take me out of where I am
But yes, if you shiver
You, you stay,
Holding the hand of me...