Brown water
Hides secrets of death
Night strains onto the fields
Like sticky sperms
A far house
Immersed in emptiness
Desolated lands
Crying their solitude to the wind.

Pulsing vein of the arm
Could explode
And stain with blood
Your tidy white bed
Live one more minute
And taste the bitterness of sadness
A little girl plays with her doll
In the room filled with silent moonshine