The wind greets every blade of grass it passes in song of life's movement, sounds of soft words whisper in my ear, the frame of the butterflies jump before my eyes along the path and fill the white clouds with rain as tears trace the lyrics in translation. My imagination.
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 4:27 AM UTC
The wind greets every blade of grass it passes in song of life's movement, sounds of soft words whisper in my ear, the frame of the butterflies jump before my eyes along the path and fill the white clouds with rain as tears trace the lyrics in translation. My imagination.
