2019年09月18日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 366th. week

In dusk, people reflected in mirrors, how many there are.
On a standing signboard, making a sound, drizzling rain in evening.
To a chair made of black-died leather, clinging, a tree flog is.
The party's over, going on the cars in the line, for sucking blood.
An assassin comes, until the day we meet again, pleading for my life.

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