The ticklish the rain
The tiny the drops
The dozen of scars
The mind remains calm.

The blow of wind
An abandoned site
Surrounded by trees
Being judged for it is.

The braids that blows
The tear don’t flow
The ink has smeared
The skin peeled off.

Wind so strong
Sound so strange
Love so shallow
Time so estranged.

Heaven and sins
Mountain vanished
Drenching us all
The tiny the drops…