Eighteenth summer and the spring;
feel first,heart is in dreaming hill.
but gone; gone so fast without king.
First in winter, at it's grave of spring.
first some I know; first that I grow,
can Love, I ; realized I, a young being.
Thus end of too short; of ones spring.
real a never; illusion just of ever.
that last with no loss; mine all sting.
Has no start; end, betray thus spring.
like me, no fool may no one soft wool.
like I still in allure; still I, in error string.
©astrophel
A