The Wandering Soul

no one allowed accompany him a lonely spirit in the dark of the night wanders with the bone-chilling air, shivering when he traipsed to find a place to set root down it was always autumn during which time he was a flesh that’s why; he was rolling on the ground pushed and shoved by the wind seeking a inn for a night’s rest but was not found one nonetheless, in the world of flesh with emotional changes following the high and low of the wave speed and direction of the flow of water facial expression changes though hide it behind the darkness; there, occasionally, was a shadow came and accompanied to comfort me the lonely flesh in times, he stood there as a saddened Pierrot dyed red under the setting sun and other occasions, he stood amidst of a field of hardship watching rising sun became a scarecrow but now, he who even lost own shadow wanders in the deep sea beyond the sky not knowing why he has to roam as a spirit what’s all about the moon what you got to do with the sun the water behind the fog and the clouds runs into the nether world and continue pours into the highest heaven and in this chaotic phenomenon the poor spirit wanders to find a one though he doesn’t know who this one would be when, after all, the spirit sobs for unbearable loneliness the time stops, his tears fill the void of ceased time with the story full of miseries