Hold not the Flower to be a Victor

string swing in the middle of the air;
turning the whole Ground floats in the
harmony of tunes settle down in the
vantage of songs

the trigger stumble, clicking the
pointless aim for a nice shoot loaded
with a beautiful sight in the middle of
the heart, like sponges of perfume,
offered a simple catch in the middle of
the night, the choir of the eye and say I
do desire

find me in the color of the powder
and smell me in the rifle of flower, for
what ever it goes that beautiful star in
the sky will always remind you where
the night is so bright in your lovely
eyes

search and love the lullaby of the
Victory of your smile, the gun smokes
the flower until the end of time ……

poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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