Red Bean Bun

There are no clouds in the night sky. The flute harmonizes with the zither only for a string to break. A red bean bun and wine. Slowly munching on the red bean bun, memories are revisited. In a dazed mind - People singing, laughing, dancing and celebrating, but the person is alone. A thick sweetness resides, where sour pangs make their way through one's heart. There are no stars in the night sky. A sword pierces through the heavens, Towards extreme tribulation, yet the sky is still so clear. The earth is grey. The breeze brings with it the air of reminiscence. A bright moon twinkles conspicuously in the night... - Thinking of home