Dead Star's Light
The flower of your lips, like touch of butterfly,
Turns my mind to madness and keeps me up at night.
At times I gaze the myriad stars, so bottomless the sky,
They used to be alive but now they're dead starlight.
The fairness of your soul embalms my dreams of life,
Sometimes I even see this 'cat' in darkness of my room...
No doubt that life is real as I run along the knife,
For the prickly way of roses is my doom...
But, who can say that parts should be alike?
They complement each other in this world...
And only life can judge your being's psyche,
And prove yourself by means of a sheathed sword...
