This post is from a low-reputation account and contains an unverified outbound link. Be cautious before clicking external links.
Love in a regular cup of rich food
I sprinkle the sweet sound
Hope
Do not play
Oh demons that often bump
Love
The ball spins
One fist arm like
The prophecy
End of his hand hidden pieces of Price,
Anything's possible so
Open flowers anymore.
author: 
photo:google