I couldn't understand why I'm still running hopelessly after you? - but it's scary to know nothing about you! Why do I keep the ancient, immortal monogram of your name anyway? In my perforated heart, you are still expanding dark holes and always wounding my heart guarding its crater cavity!

Whatever star-flowered, balm-wreathed night is: there is a monotonous, gloomy darkness here — and as long as I lie on my single bed designated as a bunk; Stamped from the scars of UVB rays, from the celestial stigma signs, I moan incessantly.

I can't forget you. I can't wipe you and throw you "tabula rasa" - like a sheet on the bottom of the trash - even behind romantic, immortal moments! You started with honest self-realization, and then with the greed of your kisses you bombarded the pillars of my fragile rope dance emotions slowly - I say goodbye to you with immortal eternity, but when you budge like a phoenix again and breathe with the meadow: Your tulip is always your favorite, babus

While I have to remember myself about the purity of my emotions, Scarecrow is disfigured, and like the accomplices of murderers, the two of us could have cut off in her flower, the universe threads of our love could not have been born. You have shown the more walkable ways of Macadam of eternal purity and sincerity, while forgetting the ladies' vow of decency, which none of us could do:

Blessed is my little angel! You're offended! You’re out in front of every fortress, like the hollow rabbit that you can’t run away from or dodge - or what you feel for sure, but you didn’t dare - like me - take the initiative to be the Last! Did you just promise? Shouldn’t you comfort your foamy poet with unforgettable happiness? But to hope for forgiveness from someone you betrayed in your Judas kisses?