Threads of a Serenade


Swaying before the moon
Are the twining tendrils of fate
Bearing tears as flowers
Their scent
Tasted with the tongue
A tormented heart
The spider skids between
The sentries
Weaving its web of love
In the quivering night
The lover's fate
Like a dewdrop that trembles
So softly upon a leaf
Uncertainly
Let the billows of time
Unwind with the wind
Let the nightingale sing
Its song of hope
May we taste the divine blossom

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