The Wind blow again, That turns the bottom of my mild heart bitter, The flow of sour honey, More than a decade in this, Yet from this cycle, My soul shall not lay this time, For its because I sought comfort among this rocky field, Bruises it brings to my mild soul, Never again, I trust my happiness no more with this cycle, I look up to my creator, And the time, I will be free, Within my Bliss. ;-(
Posted on: Mon, 01 Jul 2013 06:34:20 +0000
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