AN OLD MEN'S LOVE

THE OLD BRIDGE IS TO COLLAPSE YET SOMETHING HOLDS ON AND KEEPS IT ALIVE…

SOMETHING WHICH KEEPS HIS LOOSE BELLY WARM AND “STRONG”, AS IF A SAPLESS FLOWER GLOWS WITH DEW IN NOVEMBER MORNING….

HIS MEMORIES BURIED IN TIME AND HIS SOUL SOAKED WITH WISHES…HIS VEINS HAS WRINKLED DOWN, YET HIS PASSION BOLD AND FIERCE…..

HEAVEN KNOWS THE DEPTH OF HIS JINGLING EYES BEHIND THOSE CHAINED SPECTACLES….

LIKE A YOUNG CHILD, HIS DREAMS ARE UNBOUND AND FANTACISING….

IN THE SHIVER, HE THINKS OF A “WARM SUN”….

AT TWILIGHT, GAZING DOWN AT THE STREET WOMENS, HIS EYES GROWS DARK AND DEEP….

ON A BENDED KNEE, HE CHERISHES A HIGH KISS….LIKE AN ELIXIR FROM THE EDGE OF THE HEAVEN…

HE WISHES TO FEED THE DEATH WITH LOVE…. SOUL AT HIS TOES TREMBLES HIS LOOSE FEETS…

DAYS GROW DARKER AND DIMMER, DREAMS BRIGHTER THEN EVER….

FEATHER IN HIS HAND, HE’S A POET….HUSK IN HIS VOICE, HE’S AN ORATOR….

IN DREAM, DREAMS ARE YOUNG….DREAMERS ARE YOUTH…INTO THE WILD, BEYOND THE DEATH….. A KINGDOM WHERE NOBODY DIES….