I'm dedicated the purple of your hand where the sky is raining kindness when my birthday. I'm plunged in the gray of my acts night till morning and I think I still love you. Is it possible to write white when I'm ashes? And think like sea when I'm a drop. Where is my babyish thought always telling out my grievances and murmuring each moment of being with you? Pay attention to me. You blue all the sky. Pass from the ashes of my existence and poor on purple area of your hand. Till maybe if it was rainy, I'd become a piece of your sky mercy.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Saba Boy. Published on e-Stories.org on 11.05.2009.