The eye within the eye of a soul is tranquil
but the storm is raging.
Around the body, the cluster of names.
Father and mother, brothers and sisters,
I am refugee in my home.
I steal glances over the western sky,
a blue star beckons.
Ambition was a small city in twinkling night
a pilgrimage of amazing nothingness.
My heart aches for the missed happenings.
The decay was inevitable.
The flight of swans continued.
The memories of flowers had a funeral for me.
Death was ready to strike eyeball to eyeball,
I refuse to gratify
One long vigil was still incomplete,
ash and flame will break the distance.
Today, a song will rise from the ruins.
I will wait for another blossom,
another voyage to dreams.
