“What
will you do
if I
kiss you?”
Words
came across the forest
of
life, of course, for my muse.
“How
many people must die
before
you let me cry?”
Sorrow,
the most magic torture.
Borrow
my heart and look at my eyes;
“Who
will come to save me
from
Tears’ hands?”
If
you can love the way to Ahlman,
then
you should open your eyes and see them all,
waiting
for you to kiss the air
and
return to my arms.
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