word game

poetry       suicide       travel       permission       hope

Listen to the wind . .
it blew, in agreement
to me.

It understood, that
I think your name
is like poetry.

A lullaby, even
that caress me in my travels.

But now I ask of you
only one last wish.
A permission, if you like
to commit in this humiliation
- suicide.
So that I can engrave
your name with me
forever.
Beyond eternity.

Your name is poetry
to me.
Your name
is Hope.


words chosen by izrin. Oct 20, 2009