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a wind blows
all the leaves
in the moonlight
and it reminded
me of you,
as i sat still
in raindrops
of blue

yesterday is further
away than today
and the future
lies in us,
i feel it sometimes

i call you up and make up
a smile and shine

for now i may try,
to translate your
beauties and say
a last goodbye

just as i always wanted,
to see you
in the morning-night

forgive me my love
in silence and tell me

were we ment to be?
one and two are both three letters,
so one and two are just three.
and three has five letters,
and that's how it will be.
i take you through the flow of time
to free your thoughts and make them mine
with the wind i guide your way
a place to hide, where you can stay

i whisper softly in your ear:
“don’t always listen, have no fear.”
you may hurt me; i’ll forgive,
a fleeting tear is how i live

who i am is you and me
together bound, yet never free
we cannot last, we fade away
this silence steals the words we say

too fast i was, too slow i grew
to speak the truth i owed to you
but still i hold, though life feels stark
i see you shining in the dark
On his way to mars on a flying balloon
among the stars, over the blue lagoon
beyond the bright white-looking moon
echoing to bloom out of his old gloom,
floats a black-and-gray little raccoon.
wardsheart Dec 2024
I'll be less than I've shown,
though if I were more,
would it be known?

Perhaps it's always been this way,
in the end, that I couldn't be more
than I'd intend.

Now, I'll lay down,
close my eyes tight,
and dream of things
that bring me delight.

In life's portrait, what's yet to be,
oh, how I yearn for what's in me.

Never mind, I'll believe
as I close my eyes, in dreams,
I'll find where my spirit flies.
wardsheart Dec 2024
Above a cloudy starry sky,
songs echo
in the hidden snow,
a symphony on a journey
of a tear,
the blade of the steed.
The nights were not one...
but two nights together.

In the forest
unfolds a lady in red,
blood drips along the path,
eyes gaze upon her,
and the wolf howls
at the moon.

When she buries
the fruits of her past,
she wonders:
why was I red
and not blue like this fruit?
Now I will never know,
the grieve of my youth.

— The End —