Lost Soul
The river divides us
As the season of fate
But then
As no tide awaits
My love would last
With the withering last vein.
I speak up for the last; O' love
The poetry of your lips
The imagination I bear
The fireworks of your love.
Behold those breathes we shared
As the night has returned
With dark and wrath
The body might belong to them
But the soul will await for me love.
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