Flapped like dried bats
Hung upside down
The withered flourish-once
Vellicated in the septic breath
Bestowed by the Metempsychosis and
The freshly beheaded
The unmeaning winds
Are trying at no costs
Plugging the most magnificent feathers
To decorate the burial rituals

Above the dooms
And the tips of the creeping weeds
The future loss dances with
The future death
No one yet able to
Kill the uncertainty with determined swords
Then regroup the shreds
To fabricate the facts

Soaring like a pair of black craws
Swiftly dash across
For the nevertheless
The mighty search lies ahead

Along the icy mountain ridges where the march extended
The very ancient question seems searched
Yet unanswered
In the howling wind
Cutting through the whistling skeletons
Comes the bewitched
Millions upon millions
Sons of fathers

Sweeps the vast
No one is seen
Can’t just move pass the thing
Or walk mindlessly around it
For the ultimate upmost
Fate’s encrypted
Do not cut the circle with straight lines
Then force the cube to fit a tube

There will come the day when
The colorless will be dotted
With the newly sprout-out
So colorful and much hungrily desired
Shall the heroic howling that once
Trembled the lava in muffled silence
Sounds one more time
Not to shed the cocky bloom
But to plug the reflective chord
Not anymore to froth and foam the bubbling red
But to chant for the honors and laurels
Not to toast the devious selves drunk in the simplicity
But heed to glorify the good for charitable decency

Do I have to tell you where and when
When the loving hands become loose
How could I please your ears with sweetened verses
Wishing the bewildered lifeless reinstated
There by the side
Merged a soothing chant
That once rocked the cradle
Hummed me a lullaby so mellow

Shall more sorrow be swallowed
With regretful tears
Why the senseless efforts shall ever be tried
Since when will we understand

For honors and laurels
Of what the horn’s called upon
My feet yet need the same-old ground
Where all the glorious dead
Once proudly stood
Upon which the carvings are still glimmering
Once upon a time
There was a howling horn
Woke up the frozen banner
To conduct an orchestrated strike

The sunset drew in a silence
For the newly-wed forsythia and daffodils
Soon the waters would ride
In the reflections of the starry tide
May the howling be gone
And the lullaby be sung