1994 Makio Redlands, by George Chow
My second turn of the lunar moon wave at me.
How i define myself was a useless play wasted.
My ambitious for the high authority still on waits.
How i under estimate my will to cast my freedom.
If life is meant all about time to wake up miss fortune.
Where only God is the only one display your solemn.
If love dignified to be without fears and remorse.
Why such death represent an imperfect reason.
For the moon knows it all to the endless end.
My odyssey will repeat to its remembrance pend.
For my life drama did play a roll of astray.
Myself resides in a missing of unknown display.
|Posted: 2014-11-13 06:05:29 UTC|
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