Reservoir

Looking, to your eyes I see myself

reflecting in thy mirror

as my fingers drip senseless in the coldness

and the darkness seems to purify my sweat

It comes as the place for purity

and seem natural to drink for thrist

and spite morrow and the melting

a few sips will quench

To come to the place

to find my eyes

gazing back at me at the reservoir

Its seems the past

never melted in the present

nor the future came into sight without shadows

The streams of the darkness

in the cold mist night

to make believe that the stream had ended

while the reservoir will always be there for quenching