I love you, I love you, I love you,
with the armchair and the book of death
down the melancholy hallway,
in the iris's dark garret,
in our bed that was once the moon's bed,
and in that dance the turtle dreamed of.
I love you, I love you, I love you,
with the armchair and the book of death
down the melancholy hallway,
in the iris's dark garret,
in our bed that was once the moon's bed,
and in that dance the turtle dreamed of.
Reader, look Not on his picture, but his book.
I have been at my book, and am now past the craggy paths of study, and come to the flowery plains of honour and reputation.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories