This aesthetic that blooms throughout,  

Lays no end to my thought ;

The blueberries lay there by the evening sprinkle of dim light 

Waiting for its juice to be mushed by the gnaw, 

For every drop of the juice, reminded me of the nectar that you threw. 

 

The nebula we never saw, 

infinitely remained in my eyes, 

as it did unto your own. 

That nebula is as infinite as it remains unto our eyes, 

The love I professed , 

Is no little , but more enormous than that nebula.

 

Into The Meadows Lies The Beauty,

As gradually The Breeze blows away the moist, 

The moist which represents the nature of life, 

And reflects those beautiful ties.

 

Further apart are the souls of each, 

But connected by the grids of reach, 

In the inner lies the essence of purity, 

Which doesn't need any wires to be transmitted, 

As the wires lie beneath the consciousness, 

Beyond in which the magnet attracts, 

This Magnet doesn't attract all of you, 

As it does for you to me,

 

Numbers don't matter anymore, 

Only the vision, and connection of you, and I, 

For the bond can be extended through more ends, 

But can't be broken by sense, 

For all that appears in our perception, 

Is nothing more than the distance between the reflection, and the eye.