Coffee,

A cup of hot coffee and smile,

Which shines not for me for a whie

And gone in a moment like spark of

Fire.



Trophy

Of chase to the castles in air

Is fathomless pit of despair,

Besides I received a gray lock of

Hair.



Being aware of previous pages,

Continue the story which might have some changes.

Smoke and a scent of a gorgeous bonfire

Tenderly kills after-taste of being lying.