The sore of aloneness intensified,
melting en masse...

It is utterly futile
to argue with yourself...

The bouquet of flowers
I offered you...

The guardhouse of loneliness—
where the truth of oneself unfolds...

Wood searches for light—
whether in the sky...

Only fresh air is beloved.
She loves...

Inhale,
life whispers...

Soft water carves stone,
even the unyielding bends...

Without you, I'm lost,
but with you, I'm lost the most...

She always showers in the night light.
She is responsible for the moon...

Love me
just for this fleeting breath...

Safeguard your beauty,
not in the mask you wear...