Before the crows sit
on the scarecrow,
I'll have you in remembrance
the path we used to walk.
I feel as if you are in my
aunt's house, being a symbol
illuminating the house.
When I sit alone, the absence
speaks you are alive, but I
had seen the grave.
I cry my heart out on
the bed, will you ever come back?
If your spirit dwells in our genes,
can you still embrace me in your arms?
Oh, my maternal grandma, I miss
your presence, like the old days,
even if I feel you are here.

When the earth celebrates
        a solar year,
The cost of life whispers
        in my ear.
It rose up, the easy act
        won't backup.
The easiness of faceless
        is being asked,
"What is it the result?" I ask.
It's easy for people to leave.
It's easy to be devalued.
It's easy for mind to linger past.
It's easy to reminisce moments,
Cherished memories— yet to be
         closed as a chapter.
It's paradoxical—they face the same.
"What is it the result?" I ask.
It's paradoxical—they feel the same.

Baseless turmoil I have carried
       for you was faithless.
Aged me fine in my youth
       groundless.
No longer I was more sure
      about the lore.
No doubt it was offshore,
     I have to build my own floor.

How shall I carry this burden, alone?
I have wandered through the hardship, by my own.
Oh, my Beloved,
Can you not see what they have done?
Can you not feel the weight within my chest,
A burden too heavy for me to bear?
Oh, Beloved,
I am but a fool, lost in this pain.
Oh, Beloved,
Guide me out of this endless night.

I sat before the screen, at the same time.
Your messages, I do not see.
I start to look for the old rhyme,
All this time, I was the blind.
Of July, when the country was a battlefield,
If I were dead, you wouldn't have cared.
Why? We were unaware of each other.
What has changed? Nothing, dear.