Are you sane to love a sickness?
Asked the woman who smiled in anger.
What she asked seems disturbed,
Yet, she said be in love, Shobo.
Why don’t I see a dessert of kindness?
The smiles, the kisses, the works, the treasure,
All feels empty this monster of death.
I wrote truth of hearts to the Sterling Queen,
And, all I feel is the lone journey,
I never asked.
Stop! Just stop!
Rest in gallows, nothing stays.