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Literature Text
Have you ever hoped
for the eternity of the night?
Where your worries
blown by west wind requiem
to the endless ocean of hope
Leave nothing but memories without your tears
Or the sadness of heart
melting on the petal of white rose
Sit beside the brokenhearted soul
because she will always be there for you
When the gall of life
replaced by dreams of a night angel
Erase the line between reality and fantasy
and whisper your hope to the shooting star
Look through the crystal of night
whose glow tells us a story
Prayers to the moon
for not going away from your side
for the eternity of the night?
Where your worries
blown by west wind requiem
to the endless ocean of hope
Leave nothing but memories without your tears
Or the sadness of heart
melting on the petal of white rose
Sit beside the brokenhearted soul
because she will always be there for you
When the gall of life
replaced by dreams of a night angel
Erase the line between reality and fantasy
and whisper your hope to the shooting star
Look through the crystal of night
whose glow tells us a story
Prayers to the moon
for not going away from your side
Literature
The Night Cries
The moon bleeds,
the stars lie,
She sings,
the night cries.
Her last day,
the tree trunk sighs,
the wind blows,
the night cries.
She cant take it,
she tries and tries,
the darkness wins,
the night cries.
Greying clouds,
teardrops of night,
cleansing her sins,
with all their might.
Her pain was buried,
then dug up again,
she's never as lonley,
as when the night is her freind.
Her heart stops beating,
and then she died,
all was silent,
until the night cried.
Literature
Memories of You
(I)
Summer's heat clung to us
like guilty secrets,
so at odds with our childish delight.
We never kept track of the time,
but we knew that we'd been out too long
when our heavy limbs were patterned
with grass and freckles.
I told you that freckles were sun kisses,
and you said that you weren't the jealous type,
but you didn't act like it, did you?
(II)
We combined good posture with slouchy clothes
and found comfort in straight-backed iron chairs.
We rode public buses until midnight
and picked our favourite cafés
based on the songs they played,
thinking that music and food were equal
to our ideas of lo
Literature
Frozen Memories
By accident,
I found her tombstone.
It lay buried beneath snow,
encased in ice,
under a canopy of white held aloft by the trees.
I had been walking,
focusing,
as I often do,
on the clouds of steam rising from my mouth,
and what they meant to me,
when my foot caught hold of the crumbling cross,
and sent me tumbling down...
down...
down...
I caught myself on hands in a sea of crystal white,
flesh stinging from the cold,
my foot aching in pain,
burning hot in the winter wood.
Why would there be a grave here?
What poor soul would be forever lost in this hollow?
Carefully,
in the cold,
throughout the fading light,
and into a
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Dedicated to 
for her birthday present 
As usual, critics and comments are most welcome
for her birthday present As usual, critics and comments are most welcome
Comments19
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I like how this peice is written and I love the imagery. It is a lovely birthday present Great job
CatC