I can not be with you, longing for a caravan
per, alone in the darkness of night rides.
Love, it's so unnecessary shards scattered.
I never denied it had not been,
I'd like Judas role.
The night it arrived over the job in September,
I swallow words, pieces of them remained under the tongue.
Some of them like spores out
blow, too many secretly swallow.
Love in the grave,
where the fragments of a desolate place.
I can not tell the early morning stars of my love,
this life. Inside the unspoken thought,
wish piece of the bear yarn, which all
broken while intact sewn.
Each of us here in our own journey to travel
per oasis in the desert?
I will only bruised my soul
a piece of the bear yarn to sew it together.
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