It is time...

To show your real heart which you have tried to mask in a stone.
Your heart -- pure and real -- to be shown, strive to be real in constant;
even every after heartbreaks and downfall.

Now, let the world bowed down to its knees, and let its ears be deaf as an applause will be dropped off.

Time has been set:
In seconds in each day in a week, in a month, in each year you're still living.

Did you hear the director's queue? My Dear God,
He said, "Curtains' Up!"
Don't play child, just act real.
We're ready.

I have written every sentiments I had in you and in the world,
Even if I become shameless through my words,
While having the experiences been exploited,
As I weave by abstractions and pinned by interpretations.

I have tasted every ink of the pen when I swallowed these pages,
Which turned me to a body buried six feet underground.
As a full moon shines, I'd be risen again and again...
Pretending to breathe like I came from a good sleep.

I have painted you through the world --- the world and us
Along with the unicorns and magical forms and the opposites
Through these theories, revolutions, and reforms
We can live but equal; we can exit the canvass' frame!

I have found you lifeless with weight again
You have been through my arms with the alphabets
Then you buried yourself; "wake up!" I cry but you never rose
Oh! Now, my words are dead...