2006/Jun/26

.

.

If I go away

If I run away

What will remain of me

In you

Ghost

Whisphers

Ashes

Bitter

Dry in your mouth

I am where I am

The sculpture

remaining still

the wayit was left

I learn it will not remain

The sun grows old

The stars grow cold

The ghost never been seen

The whispers never been heard

The ashes never been tasted

I am

All that I am.

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#1 by -- กำพล -- At 2006-06-29 11:13,