On the meanings of death, of being, gone, translated…
Finally, I’d Come to Understand
That Sort of a Cold that Could Never be Melted
Seeping Out from the Bottom of My Heart
Covering Up Heaven & Earth
It Was like that Amusement Park in Childhood Becoming Rusted
Dreams that Had, Fallen on the Far End of the Mountains
The Temperatures that Remained, After the Blood’s Drained Dry
The Reality that’s, Comparable to the Shadows, Swaying Even More, Delusional
Seeing How All the Colors are, Swallowed up
And those Footprints Messy in the Mud
As Well as Those, Skid Marks
They Will All Eventually
Get Buried Down Too, Unnoticed
And so, this is, what became of life, and the snow showed it all, and life’s like that, once the traces of someone is gone, it’s gone, unless, unless you did something from when you’re still alive, to leave that huge mark, to make that smallest difference in someone else’s life, then, you’ll never really be, gone………