Night, the hour of rest…
For me, night comes riding
the wings of an owl, while others sleep, I am awake… like the unwavering light of the street lamp
outside the window, who guards the quiet and lonely street.
How strongly I desire to embrace sleep with my two eyes.
It feels so close every night… just like the apple blossom on the branch of a
not too-high tree... but when you extend your hand for it, it seems far too-high… out of reach... like an
illusion.
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