He serenades still
there under the window of...

Engrossed in whiteness
rolling down from snow fall to...

Between madness and sanity
between past and prospect...

Oh, the tiniest flower!
lost in the vastness...

Justice is a balance, an equation of something
as deep as our souls...

Tree's inquest is glow
whether in the sunny skies...

Absolute
is the silence of a canvas...

Our nakedness is not as deluding as our attires.
Love is a nude self-recognition...

Under the window
of an unknown beloved...

Worship Him in the temple of beauty
in all places...

These needs that I am chasing all my life
shackle me to myself...

We shall be forgotten
but our love will remain...