Hello, my dear Charmaine
This candle that I hold in the
Darkness of your serenity
Cannot be waxed or waned
By the eruption the hell's
Most thunderous wrath.
And my every thought flies out
Like the tendrils of a scented plant
And every leaf that blooms
From your Chanel number five perfume
Is effervescently sparking my soul.
xx tb xx
Kev.
Stop buggin me.
My bf is in the marines.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
heh heh heh..... I like it. I love it. It's great.