Well she's the law. I mean she's law. Well, she really is the law.

Caught up in the middle of emotions, starting to grow from innocence to being saint, she said, "promise me you'll be this... be this... be this..."

"You're beauty!", all I could say.

Taking it easy, everything starts to wage from dust to another dust. It ain't the reincarnation of whatever-you-call-religion, but faith to the existence of so-called fate.

Shy.

Words cling to wilderness of nothingness. But interests ablaze from wanting-to-know to needing-to-know.

I, kind of, wondering if she might be lonely. If she is, she could be, I want to know what's worth her smile. Precious. To see her does, makes me rule the world.

I just want to go deeper and incomprehensible. So if everything would fail, I'll be of no shame to face her again.

After all, im no coward. i'm just afraid.

nothing more. Just her.