From their green fragrance
watermelons are bleeding...

Skies are so grey.
It is pouring inside out...

I walk on the street of this town
unadorned and unfashioned...

The dawns of towns are
empowered by the spirits...

To escape death,
there is no choice but to live...

We float in present
spreading in past...

They were lifeless before they could meet,
like the ingredients in the ocean...

Those who knowingly accuse innocents
of heinous crimes...

Crescent is your laughter
the slit of illumination...

Just in the moment you smile
life...

"Why are you so poor?"
they ask. He says with a smile...

Would a soldier abandon his post
in his fatigue...