every time a petal fell i cried
i sigh again, when i suddenly remember the past
you who compulsorily drags my hand is me
i looked upon the whitely hazy sky and sought my destination
that childish impulse was aesthetic. flower of my time
i hustled my life, so that the light went out.
i will rather take a dream in myhand than looking for the lost light
i get away from tepid memories
ah, im sure that every accumulation of single dust particles has a meaning
so i meditate and keep it in my heart
soul and body entwine around each other and bind
i feel something and use it to overcome the following time
i open the door without looking back
the fog that sorrounded me has disappeared
the way i ought to go is clearly visible. now the whitely lazy sky looks beautiful somehow
i feel like having decided my form
a true flower, independent from time, which will remain forever
