The clichè story between the wilds
Starts with a sly fox secretly tracks
And a prey who pursues for the bees
With the honey is surely sweet
Not in a den dark and deep
The prey remarked its bad days
In a howl of a bird during cloudy eve
The bees are chasing the east behind the tree tops
Birds' eye view, wide and clear,
To shut the morning breeze and his beak
The fox clever yet numb
Watches the prey, dare not to move, for her hungry *****
She sniffed (the idea of) the perfume of its wing,
Hugged and kissed its feet, staring directly
Gives her shadow to dance and her physique charm to still
The line ended without a start like any gambling roullette
Whatever the defeat must be accepted
May one's soul laid its tongue to ground
May the fox turned its head back
For the approaching hunter
--- yearning for her meat and fur.
I wish I may?
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 2:35 PM UTC
The clichè story between the wilds
Starts with a sly fox secretly tracks
And a prey who pursues for the bees
With the honey is surely sweet
Not in a den dark and deep
The prey remarked its bad days
In a howl of a bird during cloudy eve
The bees are chasing the east behind the tree tops
Birds' eye view, wide and clear,
To shut the morning breeze and his beak
The fox clever yet numb
Watches the prey, dare not to move, for her hungry *****
She sniffed (the idea of) the perfume of its wing,
Hugged and kissed its feet, staring directly
Gives her shadow to dance and her physique charm to still
The line ended without a start like any gambling roullette
Whatever the defeat must be accepted
May one's soul laid its tongue to ground
May the fox turned its head back
For the approaching hunter
--- yearning for her meat and fur.
I wish I may?
