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
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