I want to cry, by putting my broken heart on the palm of your hand.. And my lost life wants your support in the vast ocean of running out time.. Although! i know you could not be like her! But in the resemblance of christ im seeking for the cure of my wounds! my eyes netting the dreams of courage for your welcome! And my benumbed cognition roaming around with pleasure for meeting you. For may be. . In the darken forest of my contemplati0ns i need even a temporarily kindle, perhapes! That will reduce my extrem pain? Thus I know, the cancer of lost love, spreads in body and soul like a forest fire, and sadness start singing the fawerwell songs of life.. . . But in love of the resemblance of christ, i am searching for the cure, cure that ease out my death! (rm)