Sometimes it is easier to feel the veins wilted and empty than to sense the coldness of blood in fear.

Eagle's flight of loneliness soars so high Around its sigh, no more alone the sky Other birds remain away, clouds pass byBetween shrouds of life and haze sun rays die.

Old soul cries through the tears of a newborn.

The taste of moon is like honey to all honeymooners, but after some years does the moon's scar make it bitter?

The moon seems unawareof night's dark hittingon the damp warm rain misguiding owl's spitting A thunder light of loveraising hearts beatingwhile weather learns morefrom rain lovers meeting.

When sighs are hypnotized by sorrowHappy moments you need to borrowFrom a little child or from a birdWho has the wild freedom of soul: stirred!