Windows never see me, looking through
stairways never lead me to
all the places outside
at the day's end
looking in

Blue day of sun rays will shine
stars beam, yellow moon streams
make drowsy eyes dream

Nightjars
glide through fragrant cedar trees
starlit, past the silence
to a place of dream

This tough time we are going through now
it's a fight.
but this fight
is mostly for others
more than for ourselves.

The serious teammate we have?
She's probably fighting for the passion she has
fighting for her other teammate,
who has one of the biggest dream ever.

That dream that I admire the most
because at least she has a clue
what she wants in her life.

I admire her
there's so many times when she said that
her dream was crushed
but she worked hard towards it anyways.
(because guess what, her dream will come true some day)

The last teammate
She's probably fighting for her lost hours
for her revision
and maybe
fighting for her club.
Maybe she's fighting to prove that she isn't always a
failure

I don't know what they are fighting for,
and I don't think I ever will know.

And there's me
I think

I know what I'm fighting for.

For my teammate's passion
and my second teammate's dream
and my last teammate's will to never give up.

To prove that
this week
of annoyance
frustration
stress
is all worth it.


and
For the invaluable friends we have
crossed path with.

She is nothing like a puzzle.
When you put the pieces together in a puzzle,
you know what they are going to look like in the end.

She is more like a butterfly wing.
You have one pigment of colour
and the rest is a mystery.

Who knows how big the wing is,
what shape it is,
or how many different colors are hidden inside.

That little piece of pigment is the dark blue.
So dark that you think it's black
unless is catches the light at a certain angle

And I know there is true black in most of the wing.
I'm just out to find the splashes of color
that keep her flying.

Golden horn player,
    blow.
Tune out the world with your sound.
Tune out the sins, the needs and wants,
Tune out the cries for help in the dark,
    The compliments and appraisals.
Tune out the world which beats you down then apologizes.
Tune out the ‘Yes No’s. The ‘Maybe So’s. The ‘Not Right Now’s.
Tune out every kiss, every touch.
Tune out every heartbreak and every scream. Every time you bled and cried.
Tune it all out.


Golden horn player,
    *Blow.