It is anger, clear as an empty sky.
Not resentment, not the meaningful night.
It's an anger, like a river under moonlight.Not sorrow, not the dream flies.
Becoming
the most innocent,
form of anger.
It is anger, clear as an empty sky.
Not resentment, not the meaningful night.
It's an anger, like a river under moonlight.Not sorrow, not the dream flies.
Becoming
the most innocent,
form of anger.















