"Shadows"
The day is ending, the straggler's anxiety returns. I am awaiting, however, full of boredom and emptiness. My room's curtains are moving with no stop, like the movement of a skirt which is frozen within the wind, and I'm intoxicated by the amorously sun kisses, staring at objects. In the middle, the audiences of light foot print has passed, through the shadow, sliding and slipping under my feet. Despair and indolence, arms in arms, are dancing in my narrow room around me, and life is dancing the same old and new waltz so in my thought. Maybe, I'm expecting that something impossible happens and I'm waiting for...
