What am I to do when the gladiolus cannot stretch...
this vase of loneliness anymore...

We sculpt our idols on our own
from the stone we carve and chisel...

We live together though
we die separately...

It was very musical though it was soundless.
everything in garden...

The rain is gone.
The trains are gone...

I do not wish to live
but my mom's illness...

Straight like an arrow,
the vigor of my postures...

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

I am the fire!
Thus...

_Why clarity reflect us perfectly?
_ Because we are picture perfect...

While he asked mercy
for his wrong deeds, they hung him...

Trust others to trust
yourself. Remain trustworthy...