Midnight,
And I walk alone, in the garden
Where the Moon's silver light shines
On the surface of the leaves, quavering
In the whisp'ring wind.
Midnight,
Chimes of Hell's Bells call me home
And yet, once more I stroll
Among overgrown shrubs and ruined shrines
In the dead of the night.
Midnight,
Still, I linger in my secret garden
And dwell amidst my silent companions
Of white faces and marble limbs
I stand on tiptoes for a kiss.
P.S. Shuning, there, I updated. I hope you're happy. (Because I am.)
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