Is Love anywhere?
Lungs are to blast
From the hoarse cry
Of a man who seeks it as Must
Twisted fates in books, movies, life
Does the blessing really exist?
They say it comes from above…
Pure. Real like your fingerprint
On the glass of red bitter wine.
It requires infinite time
To trust and not to be let down
When the frost eats up your hands.
In the ice of other passer-bys
There is a reflection of pair of sad eyes.
Happy Valentine’s Day
Sorry
Good true men in despair cry
From unworthy shallow relationship strips
How many until you find?
And will you find?
Scattered like rare beads
With numerous slits - a way to stop to seek
For another true soul like yours
Where not ego but flowers grow.
Overwhelming tiredness
Will there be a tangible output to this?