A token of loss.

The fact that a trip can't last makes the illusion cruel.
And yet, you take it.
Who wouldn't choose that over this?
And yet, the thinking itself reached an end, dwindled.
You can't return
without leaving part of yourself in the site dwelled.

You find yourself at the edge of oblivion.
The tacit rapture. Tzion. Nirvana.
The heaven that makes you up.
The souvenir photo shows you
as you've never been yourself there.

You weren't even here.

Beauty walks this world. It ages everything**
I love them according to the seasons
Let’s start with the winter scene  
It reminds me of June bridal dresses
Woven into the likeness of winter themes
Capturing Impureness without stresses’

The colors of springs, the beginning of testing,
  The attitude of one’s happiness that lies ahead for bracing sea breeze
The mindset of the summer beauty :shine through summer madness:

as we slowly move into the fall months
We tend to have spiritual thoughts about the madness of summer
The spring will dwindle, as the windy days come
Embrace the beauty of remaining days of summer

The beauty will be bottle in our hearts and mind for ever
Beauty walks this world, it ages like any another thing