Flowers in the spring
Jumping
Is an action
Of my mind's scene
Beauty is subjective
In the beginning
Not when it's love at first sight
In the brightest day
And the darkest nights
Shared in the evenings
Understood
That it's for each other
That love brings you
Hither
To angel's without feather
But love's a surrealistic pillow
As the romance billows
The moon above
The sky
Shone
From above
A heaven's godsend
A love i can't afford
Regarding which I can pretend
Understood that this is the end
To a journey longer
Than the peripatetic
feeling
A feeling stays
After the path comes to close
So I guess we end with roses
On the casket
But I'd rather be buried next to you
Rather than be alone
And alive
In all the same
Either way
Alone the crosswinds