When dinning thunder rolled into madness,
Among the flowers and the wind of spring,
Your lost soul was embedded in sadness
To walk right to the Terminus Sam Shing.
With white clothes and lost thoughts, you were alone,
In aftertime, for thinking to your choice.
With dropping tears, I'm much more like a stone.
I would have sung, but I needed a voice.
You didn't try to live your dreams with me.
In agony, shivers from the black hole
Had your soul never wanting to be free.
You're the destroyer of your proper soul.
Marieta Maglas
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/terminus-sam-shing/
