Like pianos / sitting by window,
life is a mix of highs / and lows near the flower
garden, Lotuses / and daisies.

Under moonlight / in Winter Forest
the flowers wilt as Summer / fades to memories.
In world without / a sun to light the

forest, the Winter / chill is the only
melody for which may / seek solace with death.
And soon, midnight / comes to reap, for

we are only dust.