This raging wind in the stormy night
has abruptly dimmed every hopeful light.
The castles made of dreams
and the most sophisticated thoughts,
not so fragile as it seems ,
have left the trails of afterthoughts.
For the truest strength,
for the undenying power
is not hidden in the storm's length
but in delicacy of a flower.
Nor in the intensity of its force,
but in sensitivity of its source.
For gentle lips could cause a storm,
yet gentle words are to adorn.
But what is true and what is lie?
What are you trying to deny?
I've always liked to scratch a surface
and explore depth...