Her feather touch, then tender-glare
Weary eyes on my restless skin
Anticipate, the blissful moment of,
Melting subconsiously in her warmth
Inside the formaldehyde of her laps
Immune to ever pain, nullifying sorrows
Blurs my vision
For a definate dissolution
In love, her love!
My state, concluded by misery
Yells for a dreamy place
This wishful thinking of mother's love.
-Osh