Mistakenly spread the gold coins
Mistakenly spread the gold coins
In the wrong hemisphere
Of the paradise
When with full punctuations
The polar bear looks at melting ice
And sighs before a grave-yard
Of the ice-berg
As he knows from then on
There will be a canvass for
Canvassing an utter bloodshed without blood
By the masters of developments
And none can win the gamble.
Only a chariot of clear wind
Will wing to the lost paradise
With the birds in the evening.
Looking at the bird’s eyes
Haunts me the stinky odor of the human
Yet I do not give in.
I hold tomorrow firmly along with the chirpings.
Looking at the bird’s eyes
I forget the poison
I forget the nectar
And find a vast valley filled with bright sunshine.
No obeisance to human’s philosophy
But to the bird’s eyes.
A smooth flow of imagination
A yellow morning….
An orange afternoon….
A smooth flow of imagination….
And they should not be disturbed
But they are
As a day’s sorrow
And a call
‘There must a toughest competition between you and you…’
And I want to avoid the competition
But I cannot
And the call haunts me
It haunts me
I begin to boil tallow in the ice age.