Let not our love
Grow like a tree
That parts into myriad fraid branches
And leaves
That with season blossom or pale and die
Let not our love be
Like the pregnant crop
Whose hope
Is cut short by moths that gnaw at its roots
And then wilt and die
Let our love be
Like two rivers
Whose waters merge into one
Just like Siamese twins
And deepen as it gurgles
Losing itself with a murmur
Of Serene turbulence
In that commingled expanse
Of all rivers of the world
That destructive life source....the sea
@prince.milinyu
©Prince Mil
P