Spring will be in a late
My lonely beloved concentrates
to find a route and insight
A deserted street, it’s not short
I call it my hidden trace,
need the fragrance in patience
At the sun set, it’s rising
All the time I need to cling
with my golden flower of May
and the eternal glorious ray
Send the velvet incubus
from the Bangalore dream's nest
Come with me, a moment’s saint
and my little hemisphere
If you think, my heart is weird
give me a thousand words of fear
or a bumpy iron chain
to wind up my mind's rain
pic. - tomblock.me
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