Lost Desires Poem by Abby Bilan

Brother of water
Unmindful of the latter
See myself behind my eyes
And so shall you flee for what beneath lies

Oh, this unknown fellow
Is not the lad at the willow
But this one must be genuine
A trap at the vine

Bond’s indifferent
Still wanted
For the fame well-spent
Maybe a ship so much granted

Doesn’t seems to be so special
For my longing in ages
A stranger a time ago
Never have seen these eyes
But there’s trust never dies

Come with me at the willow
Where the deep night awaits
Swear the mirror, never shall break
I start, as the fresh winds blow
Rather kill the baits
Mind this one must be a perfect streak