silky lips, pretty eyes, that even angel can't boast gentle touch, sweet caress, containing no lust all expressions of love at the most has now turned into memory that makes me lost
because at the crossroad within a gentle kiss, South is all I heard where your touch turns all into blood and the core of our love, ripped and torned here I am, covered with the dust of the Earth recalling our love at It's birth and all the promises of us going North wishing that our unity is no longer a myth Kuala Kencana, 11 Juli 2009
