A Frail Joy

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Down the stream of fog and mist
To the valley of grieve and woe
We walk together, silently
As the sunbeams penetrates her errant hair,
Gracefully, glistering through that autumn branch
Silently,we fall into emptiness
No words mutter, no pleasing voice
In a daze,the joyful soul is quiet
A merry heart is hurt
But a wanderer life is at still
Her soft voice lull my ears
Just like a song bird
I gaze upon her seductive eyes
That stare my staggering eyes
My dull hands preserve the memory
Of her soft breast,
Of her inviting lips
And her delicate skin
That weaved her frail bones.

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