Why this love...

Irma, My Waussie,

He never lied to her, Not to mention deceived her, So it's different than before. Or as friends through one door, However with no color lovers, He feels the loneliness. Empty days without complaining, Sliding unnoticed. She pretend they do not exist, Where it 's gone wrong. She is still something of that which She also feels.., Love. There is a view, Without words. So they read each other's rituals. And to each other's thoughts, They no longer need to guess, And silence is confused with rest.

He missed the fire with which she could kissed. They can still turn the tide, He will coveting her, As he did before ever desired. All those dreams taken away from them, Already gone into the night. Is there any affection, Whether there is only solitude, Oh well perhaps she sleeps peacefully. He restarting his love again, The imagination beats too often hollow, Because there are reasons aplenty. But she does not have the courage, So how he keeps this up..,His love.., My love.

And what if the passion is quenched,Just give him advice, Please tell him what to do. Will he ever dreaming again, just like then. Will he drown in this single intense expiatory of time. But if the passionate of love has faded and is cools, Just like that to ask themelves, Why, Why his love has been going on for her. Actually the eyes are useless, As the soul and the heart are blind to see, His desire,

Irma, My Waussie, For her.