When night comes down and I sleep
The mystery of vixen throat utters
'Fairly lay until I worsely weep'.
I think- - the whole once may stir
The uninterrupted atmosphere;
And peep through holes of window
To see if there is some ghosts beside;
I ask myself what's going on
And thereafter, a long sigh from
Resonant bushes, far off home-
I, to the highest link, be stone
Being a ice, or unpudding vow.
Hence the gray moon rises I see
While gone ackward the home
Again see the moon talk to me
As if, his beams are making dome
Upon my mind which I can't
Even now realize what it meant.



10/06/2015