Thursday, January 20, 2011


A broken swing,
Stood at a corner of a lively playground
An eagle with a broken wing,
Losing all its abilities, and can't even prowl.

The whistling of the cold breath drifted
Seeped through the eyes of light.
Darkness so deep yet vulnerable
Mist perpetually complex yet simple

I look around the room
the four walls threatening to engulf me
My heart is frozen
I am demoralised

And in the silence

Talk about mood swings. Thought that it would be a good start for the forthcoming Chinese New Year, but the dark clouds loomed above just a few minutes ago. There's about 1.5wks more. Would he be able to find something suitable? Would his talents be recognized? Do miracles exist?


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