A life-long journey,
birch like love to whip your back.
It will not be able to live to the fullest, a life of
too much afraid.
Loneliness as a child of water
around me, as well as a large space open arms.
It carries me over my dreams.
Crystal clear or weak force,
my soul anchored by the surface.
Dark winters, spring-like bright purchased.
I am a prisoner of my feelings of life scale.
The smell of vanilla, or meadow wool
the baptism of the summer night, the night mist.
Teen poems to your beloved as
the creator of the work.
This journey from the cradle to the grave,
sometimes hitting nails pedal to the metal.
Develop a continuous dramas,
rusting in the wheel of life.
Still the heat flows in my veins,
as well as the pain. To burn incense to
the salvation of my soul.
On my way to stream the last
Ferryman's journey, there is
not an escort with me at all.