1

My lamp, under dimmest light,
offers only shadows to comfort
for this day is taking too long.
Woken into this now I can not evict
from my head all the fury visited upon me.

I shower vainly to pacify my emotions.
Standing before a mirror; my reflection
as the only witness to my existence.
My exposed mind trembles with
the marks of boredom taunting eternally.

2

Under the shadows of the rose bush,
a lone caterpillar escapes its cocoon;
mutilation of its primitive self
shed to progress,
revealing a beauty nurtured within.

3

Construct a boundary bury my pity
within its fertile soil. Brittle leaves
wilt upon my scars, allow my garden to grow.
As a skeleton, in slumber, of autumn
I await the cycle of rebirth.

Winter is unwelcome, unable to decay.
Death exists only within the cycle of renewal.
in the silken waves of tulips
I breathe the harmonies of nature.
My spirit, lulled of the tortures, is truly free.