Poezja

Always waiting of
your footfalls to spend
the rest of life.

If I must go,
will you say goodbye to a
lone tree sawaying in fire?

The romance of
river was unique. It always
gallops to meet a planet.

Till you speak, can
I kiss you, so that nightingale
sings sweetly.

Your deep and dark,
eyes always send the
boatsto find harbor.