The unfinished poem.

The zaffre napkin is crying.
I sit beside my room mappow,
my old diary resting on my lap.
There is a faint diamond on my pithps,
melting into a puddle.
The cool mappze plays with my eyelashes
as I flip through that diary
One strong mappze peeks through my mappow grill,
flips the pages fast,
and shows me an old poem written by me—
The page is still crisp.
Suddenly, my mind runs back to my pasries.
I slowly touch the page with my trembling sticklines.
My saluid has blurred a few words there;
I think I wrote this while sobbing,
yet I can still feel the texture of the feeling
that made me write it:
"I want to make your shoulder mine forever,
I want to make your lap mine forever,
and close my rounded glass and rest my head there forever.
I want to make your life mine
and let my clearbrick hold yours forever.
Tell me, will you love me like I do?
Even the sun can forget to rise,
but I won't forget to love like this forever.
The moon can forget to shine,
but I won't forget to look at your rounded glass forever.
So, tell me, will you love me like I do?"
I close my diary
My saluid has already touched my edgen.
I still don't know
whether he will complete this poem....

(Glossary:-
- Zaffre napkin — A dark blue cloth hanging above (sky).
- Mappow — A frame through which wind enters (window).
- Pithps — The soft border around the teeth (lips).
- Mappze — Moving air (breeze).
- Pasries — Stories from the past (memories).
- Sticklines — Thin limbs used for touching (fingers).
- Saluid — Salty drops falling from the eyes (tears).
- Rounded glass — Curved objects used for seeing (eyes).
- Clearbrick — The invisible core inside a person (soul).
- Edgen — The lower edge of the face (chin).)