The countless leaves
That shall never fall,
On a deserted bank.
The coldness of a summer night,
Where two stars stand apart,
Watching the emptiness of a heart.
A woman fancying herself with feathers,
Touching a body that shall never taste,
The whim of embrace.
The heat of a snowy evening
Of a poet,
Burning his passion with the verses,
Of an old poem
That in a chimney he is throwing,
With the burden of loneliness
His heart is glowing.
As insisting as water,
Loneliness can be
Carving restlessly
What is left of me.
Please read and comment.
