The passing strokes of my heart remain
on the canvas of the world.  
Waves of love watch
as it paints an ambitious mirage,
faintly touching the realms of comfort.

Where does the beginning of dreams blow?
to the west or the north
Today’s pain seeps upon the seconds
and I breathe a sigh
into the winds of happiness and warmth.

The small things, once again, float
into unlit frames
that looks into your eyes
and then the worlds.
While our spirits refrain from wishing lies
were not deliberately told.

Light swears it is hungry
and doesn’t know
it is flickering like a faithful poem,
pushing to speak out
about itself.
Traveling along with truth
that has been tossing stones.

Lyrics say I love you
and then cry to the back of guilt
because it stared at you in a sense of wonder
when they were wrote.
In an atmosphere
without meter or rhyme.

The taste of a glimpse of wings
leaves painted lips
dancing in the flames.  
Unbound memories are more than we know
when everything is fine
is only said in shame.