Jewels of My Life
In the wasteland of this world’s assembly,
walking under the moon,
on a shore,
I have collected a few jewels.
When first found,
in their primitive state,
they were coarse,
oblique, unidentifiable, and unattainable.
Carving has been a larghetto movement,
set into motion by our congregation;
with the passage of time,
we became confidants under the stars;
the jovial glistening, unspoken covenants,
we soaked each other’s tears.
the moonlights we chased,
the atrocious paths we accompanied each other on,
All are Guilty;
in the carving of