Wednesday 13 May 2009

Here is the last leaf from my dead tree, I see your reflection in the dirty water,
Dreams and aspirations, floating perfection in the big sky waiting to be grasped.
Passionate red, The perfection I loved so much... Scarlet Sakura.
Perfection being sweeter than honey is just an ideal, not to be grasped.

No-one wants the past... No-one likes the past.

Wave goodbye with a single finger, I feel it on my forehead like a gun barrel,
Even the petal with the black coat swallows her tears as she faces reality.
Passionate black, the sweetness tasted through a gauze of passion... Scarlet Sakura
Perfection slashed with a blade of loneliness, tatters float in the air like black blossom.

I don't blame you, wandering geisha.

1 comment:

  1. No one wants the past? I beg to differ my friend. I love this poem though :]

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