A dropping withered leaf
at the moment touching the ground of coldness
in silence
ruffled up by the wind
spinning in the air
fell again
Where is the place of settlement?

A world with no soul
It would be miserable even though it is colorful
A journey with no destination
Would the hope be killed
by that heart of tiredness
in the desert of desolation ?


Dry riverbeds
are stretching
their chapped palms praying
yearning for the first drop of rain
the rain of hope


What kind of mood
makes the setting sun reluctant to part
leaving its twilight behind?
The earth covered in veil
is waiting for
the tenderness of the moon