He declaimed so loud
yet silence, was amplified...

Endlessly looking
in the things that tend to end...

Stretching our branches to prospect
spreads our roots in the pasts...

"Why is the fading flower so sad?"
-Asked the tearful child...

All of me is there
reflected in the river...

We are still here but
no one ever outlasts...

Silver bullet kills
the wolf in us, silver moon...

Wolves disguise as lambs,
though still slaughter lambs like wolves...

Chasing herself as
fast as running from herself...

Now is what fastens
past and prospects together...

Get acquainted to
her unsightliness for she...

Two effulgent lips,
two effusing silhouettes...