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He

Brings too many secrets

Decides not to talk any more

On a ruin of the memories

The guy is a deposed king

Silence, is the fate

Those undelivered letters together with all the addressees

During the time of unknown destination

Were sentenced to death

While in the pantomime of fate

Inside the man-in-green’s bag

Buried my final stationery writing to you

And also, those in his eyes

Lines of verse as beautiful but toxic as the white oleander flowers in the spring

-- Love is short, but longer than oblivion