I see love as a pot of tea
placed in the floor of bamboo vale.
Its scent floats to the farthest sea,
but humbly stores in nature's tale.
In darkness we trip, and roads may mislead
to where destined is not forged to reach
I thus go, and the road grows with my feet.
My reason was tried by my rage.
I devoured ice on dancing flames.
I landed safe on brittle quakes.
I blessed their soul when they thrashed my fame.
Birds on whitened trees,
warbles muted by the snow
I Heard the Chime from Faraway-
an Echo in the Wind-
The Ancient Summons to Display-
its faint sublimity.
My world and I are separated
by a crystal clear mirror-
which duplicates my body and soul
and imprints them in the world.
There isn't a
N A M E
to fill in the
void of personality.
I hand my heart to the chaotic beats:
the sirens will deafen the world
instead of me.