May be hard
To be torn apart
From broken land
Such is the tides of sand
Take the heart, turn to a martial art
No longer in this plane...
Through a story which I can't explain
Yet I shall sustain
Subdue overthinking inside me
Gone to the black sea
Much like memories
Which die every hour
But...
A scrapbook binds me to the soil
Good times
All-around
For you, I'll make 100 and more