I Am The Morning’s Orphan
The Night Hug Me To The Vigil’s Refuge
Washed His Face By My Writing
And Eyelined My Eyes With His Kohl
Combed His Hair By My Pen
Laid On My Copybook As Bed
Slept On And
My Lines As Tired Weary Breasts
Ragged From The Harvest’s Years
My Heart Is Ashtray For Smoke Secrets
And My Evenings Are Expanding
While My Morn Is Dumb
My Words Are Lighting As Light
And Mirror On The Brazen Roofs
The Vagrant Wind Is Begging
Close To My Window
Suddenly My Eyes Shaken
Then, I Sat Under The Stars Shine
After That I Thought About Flying
I Made Wings From Water
And I Soared
But The Night’s Beloved
Freeze My Blurred Wings
I Loved Her Pride
And I Failed In Love With Her
Then, My Songs Altered
And I Became A Night’s Foe
I Knew That I Couldn’t Fly And
But, I Can Sung