Tragedy and us
we are old flames
not strangers.

We shared the same
ancient tree.
Heard the first chirping
of the morning birds
on our tree branch.
And saw nightingale's lament
on the red rose beneath our nest.
Blooming upon a dew
is yet unfathomed by the sea.
We know it because together
we once touched its bottomline!

Deep from the bottom
this pristine sorrow
we know it from time ago.
Then when I sighed
intended to make a noise
splashing out a cloud
off the sorry sea.
But instead of groaning out
to the lotus pool beneath the sky.
It always rained down sweetwater
back to the earth.
Because every destined grief
deep down is filled with nectar!

She is so pretty like
blooming sunrise.
Her beauty
in her shadow
is burning fire.

Down the blue sky
I must bloom:
The rose on the thorn!

The moon has become a dancer
at this festival of love.
This dance of light,

This sacred blessing,
This divine love,
beckons us
to a world beyond
only lovers can see
with their eyes of fiery passion.

They are the chosen ones
who have surrendered.
Once they were particles of light
now they are the radiant sun.

They have left behind
the world of deceitful games.
They are the privileged lovers
who create a new world
with their eyes of fiery passion.

Today they are on the frontline
not because they are the leaders.
They know how to sneak their way up.

Someone I know
today he is no more.

Sudden cancer was still
chasing him moments ago.
Can it trace him anymore?

My narrow cave is zero colour
a thousand winds that blow over
only blow away kohls yet to see an eye.

The sunrise beams out in the morning's hush
as do the sun basks in the swift uplifting rush.
Ah, only to miss out again like yesterday,
there was a cave it tried to highlight.

Then lost me in the dark found a Moon
heavily tilted yet over a shady turf.
Every star eying upon it knows that
tomorrow again, this will host the sunrise!