no sense

The real
whether in the wind
the hope
in itself
as raindrops
to drop
in the middle
in the earth
one 's own
mind

Also in icy
cold I
can me
not help
i think
do you live
inside me

Sometimes
to meet
I you
for a
while and
I adorn
to me
your soul
if I
your eyes
search the
me in
my soul
the wound
depth
to meet
should

Though I know
it would be you
rather
that we are
never encountered
would be
I do
Yours
Mind
no sense