As I see that meteor
sprinting through the eras of our poetry,
swift and cruel,
it stops whenever we are apart again.
But I beg her not to end herself
before we tangle our hands.
And I pray that, when we merge,
she breathes calmly and peacefully.
Through the long-awaited, unwritten story of ours,
we could take our seven minutes before death.
I beg her to calm down
and write our story slowly and gently.
I pray that she grants us the youth we both desire.
I pray that she is gentle enough
for me to prove, through every one of my poems,
where you were my muse.
May she bring the sunshine steadily,
falling softly on the pages of our paths,
and may she bring the moonlight gently
across your face.
May the wind not be in a hurry
to end the earthlings.
May the stars in the sky
be patient enough to twinkle.
May my heart be absorbed in your love —
deeply, gently, forever.
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 8:04 PM UTC
As I see that meteor
sprinting through the eras of our poetry,
swift and cruel,
it stops whenever we are apart again.
But I beg her not to end herself
before we tangle our hands.
And I pray that, when we merge,
she breathes calmly and peacefully.
Through the long-awaited, unwritten story of ours,
we could take our seven minutes before death.
I beg her to calm down
and write our story slowly and gently.
I pray that she grants us the youth we both desire.
I pray that she is gentle enough
for me to prove, through every one of my poems,
where you were my muse.
May she bring the sunshine steadily,
falling softly on the pages of our paths,
and may she bring the moonlight gently
across your face.
May the wind not be in a hurry
to end the earthlings.
May the stars in the sky
be patient enough to twinkle.
May my heart be absorbed in your love —
deeply, gently, forever.