Saturday, April 30, 2011

Compass

I don't quite understand,
why is it that rain falls so quickly?

Earth calls me around noon,
as her tears stood in place.

Quickly step on your stairs,
frail or not your toes may be.

Sinking my glass in wine,
totally forget what night reveals.

Hated your sadness,
but can't do anything to love you.

All that I have left inside,
is nothing but this compass of passion.

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