I regret holding hands
Of those who could not be mine :
Only to desert them and be deserted in the middle of nowhere.
And when I found you, I did not want to desert and be deserted again.
Regret feels like a landslide
Loosening stones from strong, solid mountains --
I do not want to feel it with you.
I want our seasons to be as pure as a crystal waterfall;
No terror of storms or landslides should haunt me.
The stormy seas of the Past made up of my tears
And the tears of others deserted : let them recede
As I walk on the golden shores of the Present with you.
May 8, 2012
May 8, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
I regret holding hands
Of those who could not be mine :
Only to desert them and be deserted in the middle of nowhere.
And when I found you, I did not want to desert and be deserted again.
Regret feels like a landslide
Loosening stones from strong, solid mountains --
I do not want to feel it with you.
I want our seasons to be as pure as a crystal waterfall;
No terror of storms or landslides should haunt me.
The stormy seas of the Past made up of my tears
And the tears of others deserted : let them recede
As I walk on the golden shores of the Present with you.
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