The same rose, still red hot,
the ****** from the other world,
wide open on the ancient Earth—
mind the thorn, though;
this way, the door is closed!
Every morn, the nightingale
hops onto singing before the sun pops.
In the shadow of the visited moon,
keying in the door must be someone's boon!
Apr 23, 2024
Apr 23, 2024 at 9:42 PM UTC
The same rose, still red hot,
the ****** from the other world,
wide open on the ancient Earth—
mind the thorn, though;
this way, the door is closed!
Every morn, the nightingale
hops onto singing before the sun pops.
In the shadow of the visited moon,
keying in the door must be someone's boon!