Endlessly seeking for nothing,
apologize that nowhere to be seen.
Memory starts to rewind,
all the temporary time that cannot be bought
then here comes the crossing trail,
the truth that can only be seen by a glimpse of glass.
I fell that night on the road,
with all the lights and the horns,
with everyone eyes locked, "What happened with her?",
and the sprain which I brought everywhere on the next few months,
and the wound in my heart wide open,
longing for the existence of the dead,
I cried the whole night,
only to look at the things that wouldn't repeated twice in the morning.
That night my mind keeps saying,
It's Singapore Feeling.
05-04-2024.
