Thin Of Blossom

Only the visions of beauty I see 

lie exterior of my feelings.

My mind takes me, plays and toys with the devilish wants I have

I see no harm, in my wonder. I shall not expect to be greeted with a smile. 
Then everything I can't see; The realism inside of me. For I cannot see, a way out

maybe there is not,,, one day in the future I will have to myself.

I'm hidden in an envelope, for this paper cannot escape the seal. 

Somebody put me there, though they do not write letters.

They do not take time, to care is not in their nature - he'd have left us 

waiting there; she trembled, I do not remember but I guess. Yet this vision is not beautiful, 

however, vision less it is as I know it is, real.