I think I care not
If You reside here or out of this world,
As long as Thou carry shine in eyes,
As long as I have the propulsion to write,
Thou art the search of my sublime,
I think I ponder not
What proses are there wrought
In the roads full of noises and din,
As long as I have the willingness keen,
To fill my pages with ink,
Thou art my ocean to sink,
I think I have no wish
To know exact what glories make the Sun,
As long as the golden rays fall on thine hair,
As long as thou drape me with a dreamy layer,
Thou art my search for the Beauty divine.
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