Little brown sparrows—
Summer leaves of shedding trees,
  .  .  .  Wistful tawny breeze.

I stared at the empty glass
Imagining the sea
The more impossibilities I conceived
The more my mind streamed
Full and overflowing with such silly dreams

Fading the lines
Aside from my daily life
Lost in some delusions that lack any conclusions
Yet keep me trapped questioning and pursuing

Seeping into my words as I try to refrain
and detain all of my madness from my viewers
But sheltered time has left my social censor in ruins

and just then the glass began to sweat...