A fog in the whitest colour has been following her
Like spectral shawls caressing her back.
In her face, it brightly swirls, hiding and enlightening her
Like illusive daydreams of an insomniac.
A white mist has danced around her deadly mysteriously,
Pushing the world into long oblivion.
In the center of it, she were standing lighthousely,
Calling the attention of a Hungarian.
Like a cyclone, she flew away with that mysterious mist,
Leaving only dim ruins and empty nests.
I was lost in her, but there’s no other mist I would get lost,
Missing her only in my every breaths.