Sleeping Star

Her face look's pale, but still blushing
Her lips look stiff, though still wet
I don't know, she was asleep or dead ..

She lay 100 years
But not once turned to me
As if 100 years I sat waiting a stone

I don't know...
She sleeps ...
Or Dead ...

I'm always here waiting for her
Until the falling star picked her up
My waiting will come to an end when she leaves

All I know, I'm the one who died first ...
Because love her ...
I know, I'm not a prince that she was waiting for

Poetry is a little word with a hidden magical spell

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