She blooms secretly in an unflappable graveyard. br And who sympathizes for the immature except a grave-digger? br She dreams of a soft heart butterfly and stagnates with the dead souls. br Who understands her soft spot, language and the soggy heart? br So-and-so, a hooligan may rest for a while. br After a nightcap, until he gets sober. br Be watchful my dear especially on curfew days. br This is the true nature of the atmosphere and we all are born to decay! br But it's immaterial; be steady my sibling. br Flowers are not asphalts for the highway limousines.