— Steven Anggrek
Friends, like lovers, come and go.
Few stay — true.
After many roads,
some find the hidden treasures:
the softest young lips,
promising many pleasures.
Who could say no,
after all we’ve been through?
Hundreds of wishes from the silent days,
written in your eyes.
I can read you, my butterfly —
though fling, if you must.
We follow tradition,
never sacrificing lust.
Worshiping Dionysus
with young lovers in paradise.
My love might be ephemeral —
remember, when you explore,
the price to get what you wish for
is getting what you wished for.
After all we’ve been through,
perhaps it is time to be free.
Am I the dark sky,
heavy rain, loud thunder on the sea?
Maybe. But some see the storm and stay
for the echo of love lingers.
For many ships, my dock is
the paradise of many summers.