If ever I'm a book let it be opened
passed down through ages parent to their child.
Read to themselves and joyfully their spoken,
sometimes see tears or many broadened smiles.
A cover I don't need so tear it up
down on the street I patiently will wait.
Just not forgotten in some pitied dump
where others rot alone without a face.
a romance blissed with pain and lovers' strain
the lovers are inside and bound to perish
in passion's constant burning flower's flame
on top of an unknown high up terrace.
The last page reached with no one standing there
On to other lives for romance shared.
