If I could wield the dreaming way
That calls me every night to reach it,
I wish to set a walk away
Of all my willful thoughts to zenith.
If I could burn a piece of luck
From zero hour of my silence,
I wish to hug the last backlog
Of all the dreams and own it smiling.
“If” sounds me as a foggy night
Through tears or laugh, through peace or noise.
I still remain a solitaire
Waiting for my tales to rise…