Upon the bubbles of wisdom, a pleasant sky,
With the best of the time to repent.
That never ever fortune stake inside,
Whose fragrance did iherited poison.
Hmm, ya! Yes! Bow on your tact and style,
Whose first's got the ribbons cut.
Shunt! Weird little drop of black blood,
About stare and eyes crystal clear.
Blinking lights in a darkest night,
Do sprinkle the wise memories of you.
Once appear and nexts' do you hide,
And the pride splits wide aside.
Days have passed, a voice in me grasped,
Did those were the real, the gifts you gave me at last?
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