skeleton...

beaten hard, eaten well...by calamities...
yellow eyes,big small yellow eyes...
spread around,most blackened,
from quite sometime...
the green lady is sick,inside,outside...
it hurts her veins,her skin burns-slow fire...
but she did try to cry,all her salts,want her to die...
she has hanging on the twig of the tree,she's wry,dry,
with her slender stalk,half-alive...
she swirls,she shivers,she rustles with her pals...eerie noise...
and before saying good-bye,she flies,
to fall with the wind high...
into the empty white pages,of a book lying beside...
which happily closes in no time,that's when she writes,
pressed,to be preserved... for no reason or rhyme...
but only to be opened, to face,the silence...
she looks the same...
she is now the colored silhouette...
a skeleton full of flesh,but with life long gone and dead...
she preaches,she teaches... i just smile...

who?

who,who? painted the sky, with so much pain,
who tainted the the moon,with black crates,
who fainted the stars,and abducted 'em to far away...
i wish they just don't die...


who,who?tore all these rain drops apart,and got them cry,
who,pulled these mountains so high,to block air,
who scared the cloud,they keep running around all the time,
i wish they just stay....


who,who?can crack open the sky,and see what's behind...
who,can drill inside the earth to outside,to see beneath,underneath....
who,can get inside my soul,and make me understand it's mind...
i wish the souls are safe...

WINDOW TO THE WEST...

Window facing the west,
Wretched a little-
Chipped varnish,rusty hinges...
clinging on,curious seeker...
The sun stays long here,
It's brighter west side,
The noon's hot air,
And the silt raising,with thick slow demeanor...
It's not clear,who's behind the scenes...
Window facing the west,
Wretched a little-
Chipped varnish,rusty hinges...
When the wind is high,
It holds the frame in one hand,
The other hand is waiting for another hand,
To hold and push,to shut and close,
And let no dust fall in...

Window facing the west,
Wretched a little-
Chipped varnish,rusty hinges...
Mixed complex it is,
Let only the best flow in....
Mixed complex it is,
Suit yourself,remember who made it!