secrets whispering,hide themselves-in the pure air,lost moments,
like traces-of sparks flashing-in the waves.
The open gate,and creaking,
fountain in the garden wait,
lapping against through the waves spring hidden-in the depths...
their taulk-in...the echo-shadow itself.
Colored wires are the days and nights,
sewn together on a canvas-life,they joins the memories,put pledge,in the dark.
