When I returned from US there was no fire left in...
no humble spirit...
I've lost all these years
for I am not going to...
The urge of telling
the biggest tales even when...
Everything is mounting.
Everything is rising...
_ The shrub is gone
the roots are ruthlessly rotted...
Roses are red,
Violets are blue...
and I thought to myself....
is there a place for ones story...
In this barren forest
where fires fiercely clashed...
You got up hours ago at 9 AM with a contented...
Today was a dreamless sleep. Sometimes I prefer...
"Now." is the current
not floating with the river...
When we are in love
we are two fluttering wings...
Time is pulsating
all things to end, yet itself...