Caution

You'll cry a pond or the ocean, but who will care? The one and only, plucky motion I should've dare. It's really hard to recover from the fever. 'In any case don't let it govern the gravity lever!' I'd been taught. It all ended in conflagration. Beside the grave knees were bended in consolation. I should've learnt: what's born in flames and fireworks - a deadly curse, poisoned thorn, epitaph of forewords. But noone care, except, maybe, hysteric loner, who'd lost the key for the abbey inside the manor belonged to misery and tears, steady dejection. I'm glad to face only peers in foes' reflection. I'm glad to thank you for Nothing which can't be bare, for that thrown rocks which had roughen mine soft nightmare. I'm glad to say, lucky you, I'll overcome this.. Although, you know, to tell the truth, I hope, I won't miss this perfect script in the clouds, swing in the garden... I want to say, at least, wanted... I beg you pardon. { I love you. Pardon. } 18.03.2013 NikA