November's Eve - Charon

White dreams of sour relish

Four candles in virgins nest

Sweet rhyme of brook flows in our minds… we fly

Words in a cold frost eve

Taken by the form of breeze

Falling down before they get to known… the sough

Drunken by a fierce of night

And some who reclamied my mind

The dark is longer than we thought, so cold

Black snow shall fade our shapes

Roots of the oak embrace

Sweet rhyme of brook flows through our times, alive

A quiet pray, another day

For the words that never said

November’s eve, four of a breeze

For the words that never feels

Forever we die, forever disdain

In white dreams of sour relish

Forever white, forever night

Loose love cleaves to a dark