my aim is to put a face on the faceless
making statements for wasted cases
i take myself into forsaken spaces
all for the sake to escape those places

a fate to make shapes out of shapeless
creating grace on pages as my basis
a campaign to replace the fake embraces
leaving the traces that no eraser erases

I imagined…

I was walking alone on a highway
With a grey-ish sky above
And a grey-ish slender trees around
Looking straight forward
With this grey-ish road scene

Now I can’t imagine how long I was imagining

If I can tell, maybe a month walking a mile
with these swollen feet still walking
But I can’t really tell how long
For I see the same shade of sky and trees
No clues on this same color scheme

How long was I imagining?

With this grey-ish thing I can’t tell..
Reflections maybe might speak then
But the sky is no mirror to look at if I get aged walking
And the road is smooth still for no automobiles running
What seem ancient with the same grey-ish scene?

How long was I imagining?

Still dark, still grey-ish, still alone in the scene…
Oh, but the trees changed, the trees stands for centuries
I can tell with its wide branches and leaves falling
No slender, but heavily trunks are hardly standing still
That told me I was imagining for a century

Or
Centuries maybe…