Five years ago:
Winter was late to come.
Yes, days were green then & night was moonlit.
I saw your cherry lips first time at Simon in a starry night.
You're in a world of oblivion, holding someone very tight.
I was the Fool, I did not ask for the Ticket.
You're as beautiful as first drop of melting snow,
Like the green Highland waiting to kiss Autumn Rainbow,
Like your ring finger allows a dew drop to flow,
I remember your days at Simon with red maples.
Your eyes told me your transparency for someone,
But your eyes were like mirror, broken!
A wind started blowing from North.
Winter is going to be early this year.
Days are dull, I don't see nights.
Is it you? Standing alone....alone for years after years?
For whom? for me? or for my dried soul?
I will not ask for the Ticket.
Your paleness snatching my Simon's colour,
My ink is to bleed out last time.
Let a sudden wind from south come & blow your past off..........................................