Love,
When you come with the burning lamp of pain in your hand,
I can ee your face,
And know you a bli.
The firt time when I heard thee vere, I wa 17 year old, in full bloom a everyone aumed. Not knowing much about love, I intinctively regarded love a omething eemingly beautiful but hard to chew in eence.
I＇m correct, to ome extent. All the year I pent alone prove both diheartening and fruitle, diheartening becaue the ideal one never came down to the earth to ceae my endle waiting; fruitle becaue I ended up in dating with a wrong peron,leaving all the vere nonene. To make matter wore, a they criticized me, I broke up with the guy in only 15 day, which converely eemed to me a nice thing. Thank God I am free again.
I wrote poem myelf a a way to approach love and the unknown world. No tiny little dut in the air will ecape my eye,no voice of the blooming will lip away from my ear, and love i all pervading, all pervading except in my world.
I can＇t reit the temptation of enjoy my life alone in reading, mind wandering, walking on the fallen leave deep in thought, litening to muic by ome unknown artit, and of coure, writing. I can＇t help trembling at the thought of being deprived of the freedom by omeone outide my world. I hate to find myelf wearing the coat from ome trange guy with the angel wing till in the geture to fly. I want to fly, not with the borrowed wing, but mine.[由Www.haozuowen.com整理]
He will arrive at lat, with hi wing above my ky.
In 8 day I will have my 20th birthday, miling hiningly in my autumn, murmuring the vere I changed myelf,
Love,
When you come with the burning lamp of pain in your hand,
I can ee your face