In the quiet dawn's embrace,
Sunday morning paints its grace.
Soft light whispers through the trees,
As gentle as a summer breeze.
...
In corners dark, where shadows creep,
Lies heaps of refuse, piled deep.
With whispered sighs, it waits unseen,
A task ignored, a messy scene.
...
On rice paper
As watercolour
I dye in a drop of water
Taking on different
...
Bliss
A state of bliss
Is all
what I miss
Yet So many times
In the middle of a rustle
I had that and it helped
To standing tall
Even for a second
To feeling my infinity
I yearn of it
As Alice she knows that so
Well
A second can last
Forever!