When love is being born,
The world is announcing,
The blooming birth of love,
That's unstoppable, racing.

Love is like a storm,
Intruding into your heart,
Infuriating passions,
Building bridges inside.

But, sadly, sometimes...
It can't find its own home.
In the hearts of two people,
Where love shall be grown.

When two hearts don't meet,
One goes left, one goes right.
The power of love fades,
Dwelling deep, deep inside.

Dormant eyes slept open'd,
sought but hardly for naught,
lasting evermore.

The artist dragged
a hand across
a city skyline
in the sky
while the paint
was still wet.

Do you hear it?
The sounds of footsteps are coming from afar.
- But where are the people?
I can't see them so far.
I hear only footsteps coming from afar.
-Yes, you won't see them,
Don't make a lame effort.
When a human soul is exiled,
The body of a person, clear like a shadow,
Browses in the dark...invisible, silent.
And only from afar, with the sound of footsteps,
Rumbling as if moaning of the loss of their souls.

There once was a girl named Sue,
who wept that nobody knew,
that her ghost was a bride
and her tear brought the tide
so now it is Sue who is idle.

These are the nights I should be out with friends, but I give in to the allure of writing instead.