I have seen you around for a bit,
in my dream,
as peaceful as the one in my memory;
I have heard your whisper for a while,
via my imagination,
as faithful as the one in my heart；
I have felt your warmth for a second,
through my fingertip,
as snug as the one in my nerve.

But，
that vision,
rapidly melt into foam,
by being slightly touched,
as you are away from me for,
thousands,
millions,
billions
of miles.

So I have to,
reshape you,
piece by piece,
keeping them in every song I heard,
every word I wrote,
every book I read;
So I have to,
remind myself,
again and again,
that I once owned you,
once embraced you,
once lean against you.
So I have to,
tell others,
one by one,
that I also had that kind of place
that kind of shelter
that kind of harbor.

How many times I wish,
someone can hug me tightly whenever wind tears me apart:
How many times I fantasize ,
someone can wipe my tear off whenever desperation fills my heart up;
How many times I pray,
someone can hold my hands warmly whenever chill freezes my world.
...
But,
Lastly,
there was no one I loved waiting at the corner on the endless dark road;
But,
Lastly,
there was no one I trusted showing up in that depressed room;
But,
Lastly,
there was no one I rely on passing by at that lonely train.
So,
I hugged myself tightly,
I wiped tears off stubbornly ,
I endured that chillness lonely.

How could you critize that
I deserve what I deserve,
while I try so hard to break the endless cycle of poverty?
How could you judge that
I do not have the right to embrace new world ,
while you stay aloft from the humble life?
How could you claim that
all men are noble creatures
while I scramble for food on the ground?
How could you say that
life is easy
while I struggle just to survive?
How could you determine that
you are superior
while you never know how cruel life can be?
How could you?
How could you?
How could you?

I yelled out insanely ,
the first time the things I loved were deprived from me little by little;
I crawled on the ground painfully,
the first time the moments I cherished were wiped in my world step by step;
I knelt on the floor humbly,
the first time the work I created were destroyed in front of me piece by piece.
But ,
they never stopped withering;
they never stopped vanishing;
they never stopped dying away.
Then,
the second time;
then,
the third time;
then,
the forth time.
Then,
it is normal.