It will be Sunday, autumn, rain When I complete the verse unwritten. So deep inside one little pain, One painful love’s a little deeper.
I realized I lived before Without any aim, just waiting. I waited nothing yet so more Than your three words. I’m still forgetting.
Oh, please, don’t think about my name As I’m a cross you cannot bear. My soul is so attractive flame And you are flying with care near.
This trembling flame still could not touch Your careful wings you kept unopened Giving small chance to see how large Span of the wings could be. Still hoping.
I tried to make a precious gift But you were scared of my trying. You lied. I lied that I believed In words you said to me. Still lying.
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