At the core of everything is becoming;
a deep decision to pour itself into existence.
Everything is in it, with a cosmic rhythm,
quiet and calm, beating like a heart,
he\'s fictionalizing life.
He weaves dreams into the night. Imagine!
A painting made of dots and lines,
how beautifully it tells us our story...
There is a change in the heart of the unknown.
A wind... that makes the non-existent and the non-existent exist.
A bridgehead between existence and non-existence.
Both a lullaby and an intercession,
both a flower and a tear.
On the tongue like there is and there isn\'t...
The flight of a butterfly... -and that deep line in the eyes-
an ambiguous feeling. Both spring and fall!...
A leaf falls, a bud blooms,
that tells of a lifetime, that screams of love,
the pale pose of a fragile flower,
death in the body is inevitable.
It is the last farewell, the last word, waiting on the shore.
Perhaps death... of the unknown,
is another beginning, another doorway.