Imagine

Imagine, such a simple word that is close to complex of affection. To say “imagine love” is to set a blanket of sands, covered by the sun rays admiring oceans of eyes. Or a crowded yard having a single table which had been waiting the blood of lovers to shared within, and having the stars as their witnesses.



Imagine, pleasure of minds played with the strings by a beater. Eventually turning to the pains of absence. Great heaven and hell. Because the fear of the flames kill out the flame. Leading for the last page to a sad story. And with the sorrow of our nature, that’s showing her feelings almost every single minutes to days. I watch the crying and the covering benefits and losses we had done.



But also imagine, the born love from love. Tiny small yet so big in heart. An exceptional of all natures. Being and becoming again a part of the universe we hardly attach to nowadays. Surviving to your own blood. And willing unconsciously for more and more giving.



Imagine, lovers death. An unbearable treat. By death, tears will be shed like a flawless rivers. Pain over pain quickly entering mankind shall leave humanity full of intolerable emptiness inside each soul. But without the angel of death, living will be more empty. Ending the meaning for children to be born or a sacrifice to love.



Imagine, in the mind of there own, is only an infinite pleasure mixed with countless pains. So I’ll do as I live and intelligently sore mine with joys of life...