I’m writing...yes, I am writing to you, tho I didn’t get any reply for a long while,
and you might not answer this mail either.
I’m just like talking to myself, and you are so unreal.

I’m waiting...but don’t know what I’m waiting for...
it’s an endless road, don’t know if I should continue.
Maybe I just wait for the time to pass,
wait for the flowers to bloom and then withered;
wait for the spring to come after winter;
wait for the sunrise after long night.
Maybe I’d just liked to have some warm messages from you,
or maybe just little mercy on me.

I am here, alone.
Cold, isolated and silent.
Couldn’t hear from God, couldn’t hear from you.
Don’t know if I know you anymore.
Feel like in a dream,
but why I cannot wake up?



Picture is by Mickey from National Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall,28th Nov.2009