(2nd Sept, 2002, 10:45 PM)
The creek of dying bamboo
Buds forsaken, never to flower
Blackened eyes, rejecting tears
Falling angel black, a darker hour.
I wilted today.
Killed all my feeling and disappeared
Trembling, conversed with soft shadows
And they mocked my absence.
Gone so far - how much further?
Wilting further to death.
Closing in, hey look at the blood.
Oh so dead.
They funeral me with wilted roses
Just as red as, hey, that blood.
But never so pale