Flower bound in a field
Meadows of unseen dreams
Sounds of flute are calling still
Through a veil, dark midnight song
Silence in moonlight dwells with an unwritten word
Chased by a dream
Written by a poet’s hand
Deeply caressed within
By a melody playing still in the end
Verses unwritten, songs yet unplayed
Theater of untold words
Lines never spoken in the story’s end
Daydreaming, still calling
Moonlit paths lost in eternal turning
Within merry-go-round of the world
Till the last frozen petal to be burnt
Weeping song dwells in the night
Silent call, locked tears of silver moonlight
Yet ungone in the tale of midnight’s strike
Never seen
Purity of madness and dream
Never dreamed
Innocence of lost kite
Upon a star lies silent symphony
Forgotten tales of beauty
Untouched memory, unbound philosophy
Dream has the same colour of the kite
Lost in the deep silent night
Revealed by a flute of withering lullaby
Linlin's Poetry 