Cry

Don’t cry I have no idea whether my leaving story is real I remember that once I wrote on the wind wall Iam not alive without night In this undoubtedly faith in love I am afraid of night s loneliness What wrong have I done that I have to like my leaving I understand of your love that love is a scrawled writing on the wall Is a writing on feeling leaf Is walking beside loneliness of dried leaves And is farewell of a pigeon who lost his way to home for years You didnt draw me in this white painting And I will remain in this puzzlement That my leaving is real Or your white painting