I can only hope to die
like the distant passage of time
and space through my spacecraft

time passes through me
through rose colored eyes
with a different shade of blue

the space between my eyes
are bridges that connects me
to my mind which produces
this eternal loneliness

I shall not be afraid
of emptiness and sadness
for they will never leave me

I shall cease my thoughts
of endless hunger
for they will never end

I am but a home to this pain,
a house to this fear,
a resident of the horror,
the root of evil.



Frantically plucking the thorns
that wounds me; uncountable

it is the pebble inside my shoe
while hiking up the mountain

prancing the wildfire embers,
such is the masochistic tendency

on and off, on and off
this is a switch

back and forth the home
I go

where do you go when home
makes you homesick?


A warrior turned weary
he who was brave
pleasantly yielding
forces of dream
turns into a wave
of level and doubt
poison and destruction,

panicking peasants
pleasantly panicking,
shouting and screaming
screeching and sleeping,

as sprinting soars the land
they add the winds of sorrow
through continue. dread
they lose hope,




Time bombs are
the greatest inventions
of human history,

with its weapon being
just the striking hands
of the clock,

the ever flowing,
continuous flow
of the time and space,

there is no escape,
there are no shortcuts,
there can be no interruptions,
only time,

Time is perpetual,

our time is both short and long,
our time is both good and bad,
our time is both kind and merciless,

Time is a conquest,
time conquers us all.


In the harsh face of summer,
I see only two colors

Oh, beautiful star
spare us from this nightmare

I cannot see the way home,
the other side of the bridge
has become Helios’ hometown

For a moment,
cease a while

That I may not see the light,
the thought is enlightening
but as I perspire thoroughly,
though dead, I cross cultures

On occasions of great distress
I inscribe the horror that is you

political suicides,
world wars,
domestic rebellions,
civil wars,
ethnic cleansing,

What have we done?

In the harsh face of summer,
I see only two colors

In the harsh face of summer,
I ask only for forgiveness.


Let the winds flow
through the tree barks,

autumn has not yet come
yet I yearn for the leaves,

may my ship set sail
and open the sea,

though we part
I shall remember
the sound of silence
you left me with,

I glimmer
as the river flows,

It does not call your name
nor does it call anyone
even in the tides of our distress
it is the wall that blocked us all,

until then
may my ship set sail.


Our silence led us
to an underground passage
that led us to somewhere nice

full of crimson leaves
we tread through its call

If we ever see it again,
I shall fly through the wandering hill

where you and I first met
and how I always wander
how all of it ends.