Maybe my words may seem sour, maybe my resentment isn't but the shadow of that insistent need to love you, not with standing all, not with standing you. You might never hear my words, but what sweeter thing is there in the world of a lost love letter, vanished in the darkness of dreams, in the cold night that makes my words eternl and my love pure. Mad sun shut that insolent presumption that makes you always so alive, so sadly happy, for you know that without her you will never really be so... splendid moon continue to fight against the dark of night and seek it with your light o'er sea and earth, don't abandon it for should this happen he would be lost, lost like who has nothing left, a hope, an escape route, lost like who has no peace and only hears the strong sound of wandering thoughts. Should my uncertainty become certain, should you always feel faith in my words, then you shall understand what happiness is.

Anonymous