
Chamber of the dead;
while life bustles overhead,
entomb old secrets.

Chamber of the dead;
while life bustles overhead,
entomb old secrets.

The horizon’s bright:
my flight is a metaphor;
adventurer’s life.

Walking by a park;
above, the motorway roars—
below, some leaves crunch.

Life’s hazy at times;
sunshine behind stormy clouds—
the wind will blow on.

One in a hundred;
tree contributes to the team,
exhales oxygen.