Henry Chen (29.7.1983 / Yangon)

With a full moon in the sky
Traveled I through the wild
Sound of insects and beasts passing through
Traveled I through the wood
The night was cold, the surrounding scary
But still I traveled through the deep
For camping alone at night in the wood
Makes one's spine chills to root
So by only journeying with a quicker pace
Would I be rid faster of this place
And so I continued traveling without a stop
Keeping my mind on others' thought
Might they be having sweet dreams on their beds
Or passing a dreadful night without a rest
The truth events of which I could only guess
As a lone traveler passing through forest's depth