Nurses see only
old lesions but for patients...

I am a migrant bird
of your beauty...

Whenever
we are losing...

In the darkness,
all the inks in the world...

My poetry is not poetry really,
if poetry is doomed...

Everything is so awful
and bad...

Was it always this way,
or just my oblivion was the sleigh...

Looking endlessly
into the ending things to...

It's often harsh and
unmusical for we can't...

Whenever we learn that our past
is not just limited to our memories...

I am the fire!
Thus...

Now is the point that
the past and prospect fasten...