Counting...
I keep gliding around without any sorrow I arouse joyful intuitions within my grief I apologize but I know deep down that it’s a brief With assumed rest under shades of spring leaf All fresh like December air that brushes my skin Missing the bright rays from his smile, his cheeks rose red I gaze at the long days as they whip away into those solid nights His feet on the road that engraves the love on the soft soil Is like the colour of the dawn the full of life that never dies… Sign in to see full entry.