may wither, leaves be fallen
Roses will always turn pale; Sunflowers forever sleep in the cold night
treats never last for the bitterness always reign
expire when the blissful day ends
could blame the merry man who devotes his almighty treasures to his beloved?
woman who openly receives the gifts of her hundred aficionados?
hundred letters, thousand words to express the unexplainable art of this day
exceptionality, why? No one should ever know.
deed should be the most welcome to her highest judgement?
An effortless greeting with a soft kiss on the
plump cheek or rather an expensive ornament, should that be enough?
heart is again playing imprudently with our bewildered minds, the soft, slow,
mixed beats plays unconsciously yet again in my ears.
minute, an hour, a day, an eternity is never enough for both worlds to find its
Many fail and continue to drown in the contemporary norms of time.
try win in the Game of Hearts
one has ever won it, because they have lived it.