Wish

My land is gleaned by twilight,

Spring, summer, autumn are gone

I'm searching for someone till I exist

A sublime companion may erase the koan.

Stigmatic poor shouldn't have a choice ;

" A choice of enrichment with passion "

The crock of the raven makes always noise

Only a seer would bring reclamation.

I won't leave the niche of treasure

Without portraying the footprint on sand,

Words, thoughts, and melodies are to be closer

Let someone live in my land.