I met him standing
In the middle of the lane, awaiting
For some silhouettes, apparently,
For he
Was gazing through the haze
Enveloping the ground of this intricate maze,
Amidst eternities of both
The one behind us and the one of forth
Acquaintance; peevishly there hotching
On his place, like pole earthshaking
Though with not a-lack of grace
This little figure strangèly reminded
Of my own wraiths I thought was far behind me; but never did they leave my soul’s abode,
No matter whether home I or abroad
I always carry them like plummet on a chain
With which all a-way down and down upcoming drowner fane,
Just like pale moon is setting to its further sleep
The same way future drowner does complete
The full life circle of eternal plan,
The one which you could not outran
In vacuous attempt to fool the time
In game that has been riggéd before thine
Name and surname were inscribed in list
Of papyrus and lost in spaceless mist

The hour for fervour seems faded,
Yet flickers appear like fireflies in our tenebrous sky,
The farce of our fickle society has invaded,
But minds knowing nature will know hope is nigh.

Injustice ever growing like a tangled ivy,
Weaving our complex prison of mind,
We awake to no passion, no boldness to see,
And we pass eachother on our streets, we who are willingly blind.

I didn't ask for this, did you?
Where is the thief of mirth and freedom and bliss?
Who decided to descend the haze and fog no eye can see through?
It wasn't me, it wasn't you, it was us and apathy's kiss.

There are still flashes of redemption in the dark,
And sometimes you will meet those who are themselves the flame,
And sometimes slightly will the fog ascend, just as did the Lark,
And we must no let those who brandish their power make the mind of the Lark tame.

the raised lakes of Beijing
are fitted with the finest glass walls
parents go there to unload their unwanted children
the squids of the lakes grab hold of the children,
          hug them
                    adopt them
                          teach them to breathe
people walk by, pay no attention
but the glass walls are built tall
            wiped clear
to the point where i can’t help but to notice.
the orange plumed tentacles
grown straight from the children’s backs
          pulsing like a flame
                  like a phoenix
                         like a poppy’s bloom
smeared by the color of the water’s haze
or the tourist’s awe-shot eyes.

Swift like the sun
Shift from light to night
The tides align with the moon
And put up a fight
Father I’ve burned in your existence
Ignite the gasoline
Put yourself in a dream
Drift into the haze

My mother hates you
Never says a word
Gave you freedom
Sheds no tears

Strong in the garden
Feet rooted in the soil
Doesn’t even phase her
Expected from such a vile act
Nothing can be undone
So time has healed the pain
The secrets are no longer relevant
But the memories remain

Warm like the sunset.
Brisk as November.

I lie between your thighs with meaningful intent.
Orange and yellow phospherence fills my space after you have left.

Dense air fills the area.
Smoke infiltrates my lungs
inhaling the poison, I become addicted.

The aura grows demented.
Brown and yellow.
Orange and green.
The haze is to be seen as if in a childhood dream.

Something quite familiar,
but nothing like I've ever seen.

Distillation of my soul.
What has once been lost,
is now sure to be found.

Distortion of the mind dominates the spirit.
The heart inevitably beats pure, white, innocence.

I'll judge myself more frequently than anyone else.
Passion explicitly rests in the mind.
My desires are a gift to me.
The sun setting will always be free.