To, Naive selfWe run, brimming with passionThen blame hope for our sore feet.

Love is a fire without flamesSouls burned no prints, no ashes remainsFor which is more hurtful losing your loveOr courage to love againTherefore I fear loveI fear it again

To live, i must breatheTo exist, i must write!

Yes, You are my hamartiaAnd my museI don’t have any ex; I am a lover of oneThe tragic picture of our youth

If you are not insane in loveyou are not in love