My heart is sad,
And my soul is resigned.

Another stage,
Once again.

A transcendence of the inner self,
Of the wounded child.

Who understood,
Who realized.

What he didn't have,
He won't have.

That place,
That little piece of land,
That is family.

I don't deny that one day it will bloom,
but today I allow myself to feel.

It's only the transcendence of detachment.
Of what never was.

A closed flower,
that one day may open

I'd choose the one of acceptance.
It gives strength and motivation.

Although completeness
is similar,
it feels different.

Many would choose love.
But can you love another person without accepting them?

Instead, accept them for everything they are and how they are.
That's powerful.

I felt the echo of the scent of your skin,
on my pillow
Skin as fine as a beam of light,
Fragile as Japanese porcelain,
Soft as the finest silk,
White as a fine gold plating,
radiant as only you know how to wear it.