Wet woods at dusk
There is a sense of autism comfort that you depend on
Over there came the choking smell of children burning leaves
The years are fleeting
This time it's the sense of smell that first reminds you
Watch as flocks of birds firmly pass through the cyclone of the westerly wind
You no longer feel ashamed of your inaction
How quiet the sand grains of the days were in vain
Want to be mediocre and bend over You become docile because you learn to be considerate
A train full of trivial thoughts pierces through the twilight
After the steel roar of the mountains that disappeared into the western steel blue
The forest is more secluded
Your heart is also like the spherical fruit of a pine tree
It's covered in scars but hard and smooth
Afraid of disturbing the unknown songbirds on the other side of the forest
You also no longer meditate on the beautiful words of sorrow
That night the clouds remained in the celestial transparent amber
You are willing to spend more time with the other you
