The inexhaustible autumn is like
Loneliness that slams
Inside a human being. Many days
Is unknown to us
It is difficult to predict for the evening.
He who graciously travels
Receives many walls high
Over which it is forced to strike.
Many of us are close to us
The unknown we walk to each other
Over like the adventures of those
Sea plowing. Sometimes wind
Again the message we will eject
Call on another person.
Kindle love until time
It's past you, you do not know it
No one in the alley of fate.
I'll write the text
Maybe I can sing it with a tune
Or the wind out of my word
Such is the writer's way.