She walks with windy steps
Collecting all the colour around her.
She steps by to see
The tiny veins of the one-petal lotus,
Which we trample along,
Laughing loudly at her unceasing witticisms,
Dark, pathetic and rich with sorrow
Yet strangely amusing
That we laugh till our sides ache
And love her still more for it.
1 comment:
this is so nice!
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