A fire on some distant mountain under the grey sky,
the beauty of it's shape halting every passer-by.

I hope it keep me warm during a stormy night
and shines my path brighter than the moonlight.

The fire, a solitary goal for every lost soul,
fills the void of emptiness that takes a toll.

Survivors have named it "The Illusion of evasion"
and preach, it's the mind's creation to end desolation.

Am I a fool to have jumped into the common crowd
and reached out for hope sailing on a fluffy cloud.

This grand leap might bring me a merry evening
and let me enjoy my tea in Japan's pink spring.

The scenery I see in the fire has set me free
and I feel destined to become it's devotee.