Be wait... or even be late,
so will the rising sun... If Lunar's lover night is never done
so at might I press myself along the gritted fence
while hence no life will come if some is not done
She will cry "be wait... or even be late",
for others rest is a test...
and lovers bask in light at best
But me I wonder never going
yet staying is not my longing...
He said she said.......
wait seven minutes,
moments that turn to eleven...
while thee beg for three
one is enough for heaven
Bitter bites...
and flounder fights...
wail with me on dying sea...
soft to be...flesh love
hearts to heart is a better start
for skin wrinkle and outer beauty will be flying doves
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