You run back and forth listening for unusual events, peering into the faces of travelers. "Why are you looking at me like a madman?" I have lost a friend. Please forgive me.
You are a lover of your own experience ... not of me ... you turn to me to feel ur own emotion
The gates made of light swing open. You see in.
The rose's rarest essence lives in the thorns.
With every breath, I plant the seeds of devotion, I am a farmer of the heart.
Idle man, chases after fairy tales.