Wednesday, March 18, 2015


Night, the hour of rest…

 For me, night comes riding the wings of an owl, while others sleep, I am awake… like the unwavering light of the street lamp outside the window, who guards the quiet and lonely street.

How strongly I desire to embrace sleep with my two eyes.

 It feels so close every night… just like the apple blossom on the branch of a not too-high tree... but when you extend your hand for it, it seems far too-high… out of reach... like an illusion.

No comments:

Post a Comment