What do you think of my poetry?

The swallows burn in the incandescence

what oozes from this lacquerer river

flows into the crevices of my mind

What deafens the heart of the silent signature

Is the amorous glean reining rain

The swallows die in piercing drought

The broken shells of faith and truth

barren on the ground

for the swallows have died

and the deaf ear as won

What do you think of my poetry?
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