He Brings too many secrets Decides not to talk any more
On a ruin of the memories The guy is a deposed king Silence, is the fate Those undelivered letters together with all the addresses During the time of unknown destination Were sentenced to death
While in the pantomime of fate Inside the man-in-green’s bag Buried my final stationery writing to you And also, those in his eyes Lines of verse as beautiful but toxic as the white oleander flowers in the spring - Love is short, but longer than oblivion