I see dreams flickering in eyes,
And a whim to catch those fireflies.
The climax of the story is known to none,
but to see abandoned cottages stumble is sometimes fun;
We know not was it the snow,
Or the emergence of a new one.
But, I like to imagine.
Imagine,
Honeysuckle hovered over by moths.
And a whim to catch those fireflies.
The climax of the story is known to none,
but to see abandoned cottages stumble is sometimes fun;
We know not was it the snow,
Or the emergence of a new one.
But, I like to imagine.
Imagine,
Honeysuckle hovered over by moths.
No comments:
Post a Comment