Flowers blooming in the mid-autumn rain,
small crystals of water forming in their petals,
spreading their beautiful aroma in throbs of pain,
written in black ink across love letters.

Nuit blanches of enormous hurt,
clouded by the haze of our dream.
I, a weary traveler, guided home,
by the light of your love beam.

"Chrysanthemums of love blooming in the heart,
                                                bleeding it dry, yet keeping it alive"