cries easily and constantly expects war
always ready to fight to the death
it's tiring
loves cats and is good with plants
walks in nature to forget
let's go easily and becomes nothing everyday
with coffee waiting he loves the cold and when its dawn
the blankets are heaven and often
there is no need to live
ready to give in the last breath and disappear back into wonder
soft in the head he is like the fool
of the magic cards
a pawn of love waiting to be reborn
