And thus when the sun would rise, it should be determined;
I had lost, failed to wipe out the transience of a dreams miracle,
Leaning back as the stars fade one after another in the brightening sky
I find myself smiling, at the disappearing sight of the lunar rabbit after the moon too had sunken down to rest without a single cloud having witnessed it, the heavens remain only filled with great light.
While everyone rejoyed with a big smile to the morning which welcomes them to be again, hard working and productive, I can't help it but to feel sad, having to accept my destiny of never breaking free.
The fleeting time passes aimlessly, only for me to have faint courage,
Glooming, one would even embrace the darkness which befalls the world at a time which ceases to let even crystal starlight seep through,
This is where the dreams created in the world of fantasy are born,
That's a repeated story, they bloom, scatter then fall, recycling again.
Shining and withdrawing itself, there is always my presence in a dream, so dance in the dark night my beloved servant, have we really lost if I do not fade away and perish ~ ? Yes, we have, sadly enough.
Yet I should engage ourselves with the solance;
I don't have to die in a dream.

~ Umi

There is nothing I can give to you that is not past or future.
When my both selves fight, they throw insults at each other like an unhappy couple.
    “You are already gone!” the one says,
    “You are never here” says the other.

And I sing then. I never let any note slip away into silence. Songs in which I’m a magician,
right before the grand finale,
the last vanishing act.
I close my eyes and slowly slice away layers of skin,
so I can become less and less,
so I can sail away on the river without an end,
it’s flow imposing my soul with the authoritative demand to move forward.

There is no river.
I am pitifully human so there is no alchemy that transforms loss into beauty.
Ihe things I have built, I built myself. Like this house of memories
with it’s sole window. The moon shines through it every night.
What an unperfect image,
what my heart endures everytime I reach out only to feel
solance turning into a hell-flamed sky.
The darkness is gone like I will be gone
like everything has gone forever.

There is also no house.
Only the pale waves of a grey-winter sea,
        dualism of being and not-being
a perfect symmetry,
a beautiful fragile balance.