Poem from last week:
As I wake up to this vacant world with lost eyes,
My convictions of yesterday have not yet flew,
And no matter how bright I depict the future of tomorrow
I am drenched forever with the thoughts of you.
There is no thought of me during your day,
Nor a place in your memories when we shall part.
But like a Werther, I pursue my futile ways
Like a willow, I weep for you silently in my heart.
The larks herald this bright day anew
And the sapling perspires its first breath forth
Though the sapling’s mother no one knew
Would I die childless and be beneath a timber’s worth?
I stepped toward you, holding a banquet of roses,
I stepped before you, with my heart to propose
My soul helpless beneath you, yet you decline.
With no shiver of hope of ever being mine.
The bread is soggy and bitter,
The roses smell of blood,
The face of others are like monsters,
My soul quenched with mud.
The cicadas cry for the adjourn of the overflowing sea and crimson sky
The amorous moon clings to the last of the noble sun’s rays
The trigger wavering within my hands, the nozzle before my eye
Blithely, I sleep doting on the dreams of yesterday