I’ll surely come to you


The blossom’s colour
is washed away,
down the street drain.
Far off across the bay,
the waves alone draw near.
With overwhelming might,
muffling joy with sad rage.
But I am surrounded
by white bloom,
and the depths of your eyes.
That sparkle in a sky of light,
burying the shadows
and stifling laments.
Enough to keep
another returning dawn.

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